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Chapter Text

Prologue

Part 1 A poultry effort

The D.O.M.A (Department of Occult and Magical Affairs) was a very new concept in government. It's creation became necessary after a newly built super collider in the centre of the Sonora Desert, and the powerful fusion reactor that powered it, punched a hole in the fabric of the universe.

The incident seemed more or less benign at first, others than the initial deaths when the facility detonated. However, in the following months rifts began appearing across the globe in seemingly random locations.

In 6 months exactly 3 of these rifts had opened in the Nevada desert, the Arctic Circle and the final one at Point Nemo. The rifts themselves were like three dimensional cracks in space, thin streaks of light that would flicker and twitch where they stood. Each had become encircled by monitoring stations equipped with radiation and magnetic field detectors as well as armed guards, as both scientific groups and global militaries looked to understand them.

The rifts had a feint pull. Not enough to pull someone in, even if they stood a few millimeters away, but enough to make you feel apprehensive as you approached.

“you know, I think it's quite pretty” the voice of a guard glided through the frozen air as he crushed out his cigarette.

“Oh yeah, mesmerising” answered another, his reply dripping in sarcasm. “So gorgeous that Stewart managed to sunburn his retina trying to get a closer look.” silence gripped the watchtower for a moment before the first guard spoke again.

“...You can do that?” a look of genuine surprise fell across the young man's face.

“Why do you think all the scientists wear bloody welding masks when they take readings and throw chickens at it.” another heavy pause settled over the pair.

“They throw chickens at it?” Quized the first guard.

“Well if some interdimentional hole in the wall ate your favourite pen, wouldn't you want to see what else it's hungry for? And besides, I don't think they are just slingshoting poultry into fucking void. I assume they strap a camera to them, or tie a rope around one of their legs.” The older man spoke with a certainty one only gets from great assumptions and fragmented conversation they had heard while passing by the lunch hall.

“Do they come back?” The first guards voice held a twinge of concern.

The older man sighed. “We'd probably hear more clucking if they did.”

After 9 months of rigorous testing two things were known for certain. Firstly, each rift gave off enough light, that the right configuration of solar panels could power a small city indefinitely. Secondly, they seemed to like chicken and refused to share.

Part 2 Lost and found

It wasn't until a full year after the last rift had appeared that any fresh information appeared regarding the anomalies. Like clockwork, after 12 months people began reporting flashes of light, identical to the rifts. Much smaller tears would open, spit something out and then immediately snap shut again.

The first thing to be spat out of the void was a small ornate wooden box, careful analysis of which showed the wood to be from an unknown relative of cherry trees. Slowly other items would appear, all seemingly unrelated to each other and all made of subtlety different variations of conventional materials. This pattern continued for another month, until on a wet and unpleasant Monday morning, the void felt benevolent enough to spit out a person.

Her name was Lucy and until 3 years ago, she worked the front desk of a small day care in England. One evening she had been reported missing, leading to an investigation that had turned up precisely nothing. In the brief walk from her desk to her car she had simply vanished, until landing with quite a thud at her old desk with just moments to spare before her shift would have started.

Lucy claimed to have no memories of where she was or of any time passing, only of feeling the floor vanish beneath her and nose suddenly breaking against her keyboard. Her clothes were the same as when she had vanished, her hair was still meticulously made up and even her phone still had charge, the only thing to have changed was a feint blue glow coming from her eyes. She was not the only one.

Slowly more missing persons began reappearing, some only missing for a few days while others had been gone for decades. A small handful of the people to be ejected by a rift wore strange clothes, far different form what they had vanished in and did in fact remember things from the other side, ranging from a snapshot of a picturesque landscape to days starving in thick woodlands.

Over the course of 36 separate interviews, a fragmented image began to form. On the other side of the rift there seemed to be a civilisation not dissimilar to a medieval earth, flush with royalty, city states and armour clad knights. However each story seemed to corroborate that this other world was thick with what could only be described as magic.

Steadily, more people were returning from the other side, interspersed with more random objects and trinkets, each newly found formerly missing person adding a small piece to a growing image of the world beyond. Humanity was learning slightly more each time a person was dropped from a rift until the 53rd missing person appeared.

The final person to return to earth was a man in his mid 20s who was much worse for wear than any who had come before. He was unconscious and dripping with blood, his ornate black and red robe stinking of smoke and ash and a thin golden headband clutched in his hands. Quickly he was taken to a hospital where to the shock of a handful of doctors and nurses he was found to be uninjured. Not a cut or scrape in sight, just blood and an intricate series of runes tattooed across his body.

The man was identified as Caleb Trask, a seemingly ordinary man who had been reported missing less than a week before dropping limply into the middle of the Las Vegas stip. Unlike all the other people who had vanished and returned, Caleb had disappeared from a plane while crossing over the Atlantic and was spat out a great distance from where he was last seen. He remained unconscious for several days. Long enough to miss the visit.

Part 3 A friend in need

The rifts had stood for almost 2 years now, gently flickering and crackling as they were probed and prodded. All was as it had been for 24 long months, until one day it wasn't.

With a thunderous crack each rift snapped shut at once, the ground shook and slip at each of the monitoring stations. The sudden activity almost stopped everyone from noticing.

A blinding light stood in the centre of Tokyo, crackling and flickering as people looked on in shock. The rifts were no great secret, but for a new one to open without warning was what most would consider to be cause for concern. The towering monument to humanities lack of understanding stood taller than the others had, casting huge shadows as its light flickered and danced. As if a frozen lightning bolt it held its position, a small burn in the concrete where it touched the ground.

Crowds of people backed away, covering their eyes to shield from the burning glow but not fleeing from it. Thousands stood in awe of what loomed before them, almost not noticing the great crack in all they knew slowly growing wider. As the fissure in space itself stretched to the width of a man, some who were foolish enough to brave the terrible light pointed to a shadow at its centre, a silhouette.

As the gathered crowd broke into murmurs and speculation it moved, the rift seeming to twist and shudder as a woman pushed her way though. As she emerged she was flanked on each side by a handful of armour clad men, swords and axes stowed but worryingly present.

The light of the rift began to fade slightly, allowing anyone not stood close enough to lick it the chance to raise their gaze. Suddenly the strange woman raised a hand, leading the crowd into a heavy, expectant silence. Finally, she spoke, her voice easily carrying for all those watching to hear.

“Greetings, I am Queen Nisa. I have come to ask for your aid.” Her words dripped sincerity as her pail blonde hair shimmered in the light of the rift, almost as brightly as the perfectly polished suits of armour her escot wore.

“Our world is coming undone and our magic is seeping into your world through these between them. We come seeking asylum.”

This was the moment that the D.O.M.A was formed, and humanity's course was changed forever.

Queen Nisa remained on earth with her guards for some time, meeting with world leaders and diplomats in order to make a deal for her peoples safety. None could give her what she pleaded for.

She was willing to barter and trade what she could, but nothing she offered seemed enough. She did not just wish for a place for her people among the citizens of another country, she worked tirelessly to try and procure a large piece of land where they could build a country of their own. A noble enough thought, but no country wished to give up such a vast amount of it's own land to a friend they had just met.

With each passing day and stalled negotiation the queen grew more and more desperate. Her world had been on the verge of collapse when she arrived, her citizens reduced to less than 4 million in total and dwindling with each hour that passed. Finally she seemed defeated, resigning herself to the fate of her world she took her escort and with a dark expression marched them back through the rift, snapping it shut once again behind them.

All seemed as it once was. No great rifts, no sudden flashes in the sky, no more avian investigators hurled into the great unknown. The world took a collective breath, believing that their brief brush with the other side had drawn to a close.

Part 4 A house divided

The original 3 monitoring stations remained active mostly out of curiosity. Staff continued gathering and sifting through what data they could in blissful peace.

As the majority of it's crew settled into sleep the point Nemo station registered a blip. Its magnetometer had woken from its deep slumber and was signalling a growing magnetic field at the site of the detonated super colider. A young scientist named Arabella put down her coffee, reaching to make a note of the sudden reading, her pen barely touched paper before alarms began to blare. Her colleagues rushed from their cramped cabins in slippers and bath robes.

“Christ Ari!” Came the foul tempered voice of her supervisor “You better not have lent on the fire alarm again!” His emphasis on the word ‘again’ stung the young girl.

“No sir!” Her reply was quick and energetic “The magnetometer just went ballistic!” She pointed to a small display that jumped and danced franticly.

“Shit.” His voice softened “that's the colider. I thought it was being torn apart.”

“It is sir, work began over a year ago” she quickly picked up a phone, hoping to check their readings against the other stations.

“Well it appears to be exploding again.”

The inky black of the cooling desert was annihilate by blinding white light as once again a rift had opened. It was small at first, but with the gentle coaxing of the queen and her mages it grew. Demolition workers watched in abject horror from their small temporary homes as reality itself cracked, over and over. More rifts opened close to each other, arching and coalescing until they had grown enough to touch the clouds. As the castrophany of cracking space slowed it gave way to an arguably more worrying sound. Coming from the distant rift, was marching.

Part 5 Pain repaid

Caleb sat up in his hospital bed. It had taken quite some time for him to awaken, but now he was restless. In the pit of his stomach he felt a pure and unyielding rage. He was free, and planned on using that fact.

He looked at his surroundings for a moment, feeling them to be wrong. This world he had been ripped from so long ago was no longer his home, but he still knew how it should be. The feeling of magic in the world around him was faint, but steadily growing in intensity. His eyes took a deep purple colour, a familiar voice reaching out from within him.

“SHE'S HERE.” It rasped.

“I noticed.” he answered aloud.

“WE CANNOT LET THIS GO UNANSWERED.” The voice hissed again.

“We won't.” Calebs’ voice was steady and cold. Slowly he stood, this hospital gown igniting as his black robes took form around him. With a long exhale he looked down at the golden headband that had come with them.

“HER POWERS ARE LIMITED HERE.” The voice broke the silence.

“I feel the same.” Caleb snapped his fingers, a small bolt of lightning crackling between them.

“THIS IS YOUR HOME, YOU ARE NOT DIMINISHED BY YOUR PRESENCE HERE.” A hint of satisfaction shone through the voices’ icy tone.

“I don't remember you being this talkative.”

Overnight a large fortress had been erected in the desert, the remnants of the demolition workers' shanty town paving the way to a heavily guarded gate. Both military and news helicopters circled overhead, capturing footage of the carved stone walls that encircled the great rift. The US Army had amazed a force 1 kilometre from the gate as they planned their next move. After hours of staring down the great fortress nothing had changed, it was evident that someone had better knock.

The unlucky few were selected. A diplomat, general and a handful of well armed soldiers piled into a truck and made their approach. Almost 100 meters from the gate the small convoy came to a stop as slowly the massive doors were pulled open by two incredibly large and pale men. One of the men signaled for them to approach as a group of armoured knights slowly marched from the gate with the queen in toe.

The two groups met halfway as the sun beset them all. Slowly, Queen Nisa offered a small bow which was awkwardly returned by the men. Both groups stood silently for longer than either felt comfortable with, the silence being broken by Mr Caplin, one of the diplomats the queen had met with before, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Uhh... your majesty. What are you doing here?” Caplin was careful not to let his tone be considered rude.

“Preparing.” The Queen's voice was sweet yet certain.

“But I'm afraid we cannot help you, each leader you met turned you away.” Caplin cut to the centre of the issue, emboldened by the soldiers on his flanks.

“No. You could and still can help us, you have simply chosen not to.” Her answer came with a snap, barely concealing her disdain. “I cannot roll over and allow my people to be consigned to oblivion by your rulers. We tried diplomacy, it failed. Now we will try something else.” Mr Caplin adjusted his glasses again, sweat beading on his brow. He drew in a breath to speak again, only to be cut off by the decorated man to his left.

“This is not a negotiation. Leave now or we...” the Queen snapped her fingers and at once the man's voice died.

“We didn't come for a fight, leave me to my work and once my people are safe I will speak with you again. Attempt to remove us and we will take action.” Her gaze narrowed as she spoke, chilling each of the soldiers infront of her. After a single second of poor judgment one of the soldiers shouldered his rifle, only to be met with the metallic ring of drawing swords. All could hear a pin drop, likely contributing to their confusion when instead it was a gold crown.

Both groups gave the golden headband a quizzical look, the tallest of the Queens knights kneeling to pick it up. The Queen herself stood frozen, the self confidence and fighting spirit she had just shown seeming to have vanished. Carefully she took the circlet from her guard commander, a look of horrified recognition only growing more obvious as she looked it over.

She looked back up, about to order the guards back to the keep, her voice inaudible over the sound of metal buckling. One of her knights slammed into the ground with enough force for it to be felt by those manning the fortress, what remained of his helmet oozing red onto the sand from between the mangled steel.

“It's no warhammer, but you know what? I like it.” Caleb stood flourishing a wooden baseball bat, the freshly made corpse between him and the queen. “Sorry, was that yours?” He pointed at the bleeding pile of armour.

“I...how...” the Queen fought for words as she kept her eyes locked with Caleb, finding none before the guard commander stepped forth and thrust his sword towards the assailant.

Caleb made no effort to dodge or deflect the assault, the blade slipping between his ribs and jutting out of his back. The Commander relaxed for a moment only for his heart to race once again when no blood ran down his sword. He reached back, attempting to withdraw the blade only to be stopped when Caleb's hand wrapped around it. “You're taller than I remember.” Caleb's tone stayed flat as he flexed his fingers, suddenly snapping the sword in two. “I'm here for your leader. Stand down or be turned into a horrifying warning to others.” He haphazardly pointed his bat towards the corpse of the Knight.

“We do not fear you. We don't even know who you are. We will not take orders from you.” The Commander's voice was filled with valor and courage as he pulled a dagger and took a fighting stance.

“You should be afraid. I just turned one of your men into soup.” Caleb made another lazy wave of his bat towards the body on the ground.

“Attacking a man with his guard down shows no strength.” The commander practically spat the words out.

“Alright then.” In an instant Caleb appeared inches from the face of another Knight. “Hello! I'm going to hit you now, please adequately prepare yourself.” His tone had taken on an almost joyful quality, directly opposing the terrified eyes that were barely visible through the slotted helmet.

“PLEASE! NO!” The Queens guard raised his sword defensively only for it to shatter. Clutching the bat in one hand, Caleb swung directly down, pushing through the desperate block and once again totally deforming the thick armour with a horrific crack.

Slowly Caleb began to turn back to the commander, another smug remark loaded and ready. However, instead of the terrified face of the grizzled and battle hardened guard commander, he was met with a bright blue light. He snapped his head to one side just in time for the great bolt of lightning the Queen had loosed so flash past him, feeling it singe his hair and robe as it passed before turning a large chunk of distant sand into glass.

“FINALLY.” Sang the silent voice as Caleb met the Queen's gaze.

“Hello, love. I almost forgot you were there.” Caleb gave her a thick toothy grin, the smell of burnt hair filling his nose.

“Leave us.” The Queen commanded, her eyes glowing a bright blue. Her guards knew better than to argue, tentatively stepping away, ushering for the small company of soldiers to follow. Caleb gave them all a polite wave, making no effort to stop them.

“You look awful Nisandra, truly.” Calebs’ grin remained fixed. “How long has it been for you?” There was a long pause as the Queen pushed down a poisoned mix of terror and guilt.

“Almost 100 years” her voice came as a whisper, a far cry from the great Queen who ordered her men away a moment ago.

“You poor bugger. I bet you'd almost put it all out of your mind. For us it's only been a few weeks since we last saw you.” His eyes flashed a subtle purple tint as he said the word ‘we’. The Queen visibly winced at the word.

“Enoch, please. I'm truly sorry for..” Caleb snapped at her, his previously jovial demeanor vanishing as he spoke.

“Save your apologies, witch. And DO NOT call us by that name. For 3000 years we carried that name, and for 3000 years you bent us to your will!” The hint of purple in Calebs’ eyes grew into a distinctive glow as he spoke. “We trusted you, and the moment your trust in me wavered you chained us like a dog. Something to let loose on your enemies then be locked away again when the job was completed!” The Queen struggled to keep his gaze, the pressure of his magical energy weighing her down.

“I did it for our people. Our future.” Her voice remained quiet, the sound struggling to carry through the air.

“You did it for your own greed! Your own lust for power! Now you call the survivors of your crusade ‘our people.’ As if you weren't prepared to have me slaughter them at the first sign of discontent.” anger blazed in the young man's eyes, the memories of atrocities he had committed while passenger to her whims playing in his mind.

“ENOUGH, END HER!” The silent voice snarled.

“I AM NOT FINISHED!” Caleb screamed back, his reply to the nothing audible to all.

He took a moment to compose himself before kicking the circlet from the sand to the Queens’ feet.

“Do you remember how many?” His voice softened, almost sounding defeated.

“I'm not sure what you mean.” The Queen's voice wavered, unsure of herself.

“Do you remember how many people you had me slaughter?” His tone sharpened again, but he held back the rage that had seeped forth before. “Of course you don't. I can't even remember the exact number anymore... but I know for certain the number is more than 5 million.” The Queen froze, recalling each time she had send him in to battle or ordered him to raise the cities of her enemies.

“I counted at first. I wanted to remember them. I had nothing else to do, trapped behind my own eyes. But the bodies aren't really what matter are they?.. it's the blood. More than 2 and a half billion litres of it spilled in your name.”

The Queen struggled for words. He was right. It was rare that he wasn't, and now her people numbered only around 4 million. The circlet she had given him placed him under her control for thousands of years, giving him no choice but to obey. Now it lay at her feet and her once loyal monster was free.

“My mistakes are my own. But I am trying to be better. Our world is coming apart and I cannot stop it, I cannot help my people without a place for them.” Caleb's eyes narrowed as she fell silent once again.

“Did you even hear me? 2 and a half BILLION litres of blood. Blood that is on my hands. Blood that I must repay.” Caleb tightened his grip on the bat for the first time since he last swung it.

“DO IT!” The voice screamed.

“I suppose yours will be a start.”

Caleb lunged forward, moving so fast he almost vanished as he closed the distance between them. The Queen saw a clenched fist shoot toward her, barely able to put up a protection ward before the blow connected, sending her careening across the desert floor towards the fortress. Dust and sand bellowed into the air as she touched down, struggling to keep her feet under her as she slid to a stop. Franticly she scanned the horizon, Caleb seeming to have vanished the moment his strike hit her ward. Hit by a wave of realisation she raised another ward, spinning to face behind her as the wood of the bat pushed through the protective spell and landed heavily against her ribs, the subtle up swing launching her over a hundred feet into the air.

Caleb stood and watched as she sailed through the air, leaning casually on the bat as he watched her arc carrying her back towards the sand. He was so mesmerised by his handiwork that he almost missed the sound of the gate opening behind him. Turning his head to investigate he saw a flash of movement coming straight for him, barely lifting his arm in time to block the strike.

Despite blocking the strike itself, the blow provided enough force to push Caleb across the sand, leaving him between the Queen and his newest problem. As dust began to settle Caleb looked his attacker over. A young woman stood near the gate, seemingly in her 20s (though that meant nothing considering his own age and appearance) with dirty blonde hair draped over her shoulders and a strong purple glow in her eyes.

Before Caleb had decided on his next move she vanished, kicking up sand as she moved. Quickly Caleb raised his arm to head hight, blocking a kick that had come from behind him, one that carried enough force to produce a shock wave as it met his forearm. Suddenly he shifted, his hand snapping closed around the leg and pulling its owner into the air before delivering a strike of his own with the bat. It had stalled in mid air, held tightly by the woman as she glared at him. As she squeezed it cracked and splintered before shattering into small fragments of cheap wood. Quickly Caleb swung her whole body, slamming it into the ground with incredible force and knocking the wind out of the girl.

He examined her for a moment. He couldn't feel any magical presence from her, possibly due to his own drowning it out. He raised his heavy boot, ready to finish her when the Queen's voice cut through the air.

“El, leave him and run!” Her voice trembled as she shouted to the young girl. This gave Caleb pause. Lowering his foot carefully, he turned to look at Nisa as she struggled to her feet.

“That almost sounded like concern. Since when did you start caring who lives or dies?” The sound of joy had returned to his voice as he looked down at her.

“Do what you must to me, but don't hurt her. She's no threat to you.” Nisas’ voice held a defiant tone, her previous fear seeming to evaporate.

“Neither were those poor knights of yours, yet their lives weren't worth pleading for. Why is she different?” He glanced back at the coughing heap on the floor.

“She is my daughter. She's not responsible for my actions, she wasn't even born until after you left.” Nisas’ eyes pleaded with Caleb.

“You mean before you cast a banishing curse on me. Hoping to trap me in the hells.” His eyes returned to the girl as she struggled to get her breath back. “...El, was it?” His voice lay flat and monotone. “where is your father, girl? I believe I'd enjoy meeting the man who could put up with your witch mother.”

Slowly the girl hauled herself to her feet, breath still heavy as she stared down the man before her.

“I never met him... but my mother told me stories.” She drew in another deep breath.”His name was Enoch, and he was a great warrior.” Calebs’ eye twitched when hearing the name again. “One day he was driven mad, and after destroying half of the palace he disappeared. 9 months later I was born.” El stood straight, putting her just a few inches shorter than Caleb.

“Say that name again and I will pluck every single tooth from your head, then make you eat them.” Calebs’ voice conveyed no rage as he spoke, but that did not make his threat any less real. He was about to call the girl's mother a liar, dashing any notion she might have of him being her father, but fighting wasn't the only thing he was forced to do while under her control, and beyond that something else bothered him. Then it clicked.

He couldn't feel her magic. Not because it wasn't there, and while harmless to him, her strikes were too strong for her power to be completely lost in his own. He couldn't feel it because it was too similar to his own, it mixed with his magic, masking itself from him. Before he could speak again she rushed forward, throwing another powerful punch that Caleb caught with one hand, the following shock wave throwing his messy hair wildly around.

“From what I can tell, you haven't changed. You killed millions and now you want to stop my mother from saving almost as many. You don't care about repaying the blood you spilled. You care about revenge.” A smirk crept onto her face, a sense of satisfaction shining through her words.

“I think that's enough from you, young lady.” Caleb pulled her arm, dragging her closer as he swung his fist with enough force to rend her from consciousness and leave a large divot in the ground where her head landed.

With a scream Nisa unleashed a continuous blast of lightning only for Caleb to raise a hand in defence. With no attempt at a magical ward, the arcane fury seared and melted the flesh of his palm. Slowly he pushed toward her, the burning skin not seeming to bother him as he closed in. Finally within arms length of the Queen, Calebs’ free hand shot forth and gripped her throat, lifting her off of the ground. As her magic stuttered and fizzled he looked at the melting and smoking mess that was his right hand.

“You never were much for fighting. Did you ever learn more offensive spells than a basic lightning spell?” He paused as if waiting for a response, his grip never loosening enough to allow a word to escape. “I'll be honest I'm not totally sure what to do with this revelation.”

“DO NOT WAVER NOW. NOT WHEN OUR REVENGE IS WITHIN OUR GRASP!” The voice hissed.

“On the one hand” Caleb continued, paying it no heed. “I feel a stronger compulsion to kill you than ever before.”

“YEEEEEES.” The voice came again, the most excited it had ever sounded.

“On the other.” Caleb continued to ignore the voice. “I suppose the girl makes a point, killing you now would mean the deaths of millions more were on my hands.”

“NOOOOO!” Chimed the voice again, clearly on an emotional roller coaster of its own.

The Queens’ vision was beginning to go dark as she dropped to the soft sand below, wheezing and hacking as cool air filled her lungs again for the first time in over a minute. Her gaze snapped to her daughter, laying face down but breathing. Slowly she looked back toward Caleb as he strolled away from the fortress and towards the empty horizon.

“Wh~where are you going?” She forced out, her voice horse and full of sand.

“To see a man about a dog.” Caleb replied flippantly. Nisa blinked and he was gone, as silently and quickly as he had arrived.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 Moving on

Lucy was 6 months into her apprenticeship and currently exploring the streets of London. After Queen Nisa had set up her stronghold and narrowly survived her brush with Caleb (footage of which had been televised across the world) the fledgling Department of Occult and Magical Affairs lobbied to create a counter measure. Almost 2 years later the motion was passed, the result was the International Bureau of Occultism, an armed response unit dedicated to all things magical or otherworldly.

Lucy hadn't landed on her feet after her stint in the void. Her old job had been filled for 3 years, her replacement less than pleased with her destroyed keyboard thanks to Lucy's landing. However, her passing relationship with the abyss had left its mark in the form of an affinity for magic. She was no savant, but it gave her potential which was enough to get her apprenticeship with the bureau. After a few hours of sightseeing, she collected the items on the list her mentor had given her and headed back to the hotel, knocking at his door once she arrived.

Caleb opened the door to his modest room, wordlessly moving back inside after allowing Lucy in. Quietly he sat at the cheap desk, a half disassembled trench gun laying on its top.

“Did you get everything?” he scrubbed the barrel with a wire brush as he spoke.

“Chalk, salt, rubbing alcohol, WD-40 and one large Big Mac meal.” Lucy smiled, placing the bag next to him on the desk.

“Perfect. Sorry for asking you to get it all, I'd have done it but I still get funny looks when I go out in public” with one hand he dug through the bag, pulling out the can of oil and giving the gun a healthy spray. “You should get changed, we need to inspect the site before it gets dark.” Caleb's eyes remained fixed on his work as he spoke, beginning to slide and click the weapons parts back into place.

“Does the time really make a difference?” Lucy watched with enthusiasm as the pieces came together into a completed shotgun.

“Hisk are nocturnal, and we have no idea how big the nest is. Best we go in while they are sleeping.” With a satisfying click he began loading it with shells, alternating between slugs and buckshot as he went. “And don't forget your gun this time. Watching you hack at that Ogrin with your knife was just embarrassing.” Lucy's face flushed slightly before she turned towards the door.

“I'll meet you by the car.” She called back before crossing the hall to her room.

The uniform wasn't too strict, the only requirement was the heavy black coat she had been issued on her first day. It was made of exceptionally thick and weighty leather, reaching halfway down her shins, it made her feel like she was dressed in stiff cardboard. She did understand its importance, the leather helped prevent burns from spells while a series of thin steel plates hidden in the arms and breast of the garment would limit the damage claws or teeth could inflicted. She just wished it didn't stand out so much. Like a leather cowboy hat in a British summer, it drew no end of sideways glances and murmurs from passing people as she stood next to the black Range Rover they had arrived in. At least she didn't have to feel self conscious for long, spotting Caleb rounding the corner in his own black coat, tattered and weathered from heavy use.

“Do you have it?” He asked as he approached, every set of eyes in the car park fixed on him.

“Yes.” Lucy's voice was sharp but with a touch of embarrassment, like a child who had been asked ‘now are we going to touch hot things?’ After burning their hand on the stove. Quickly she held her coat open, showing off an immaculately clean and holstered handgun.

“Outstanding!” Caleb opened the boot of the car with unprecedented enthusiasm, carefully placing his trench gun and small shopping bag of supplies inside. “Then I believe we are ready to go.” With that Caleb pulled out a cigarette, lighting it as he swung open the drivers side door.

“That place is huge.” Lucy marvelled at the slowly decaying warehouse they had parked across from.

“One of the workers reported hissing noises and seeing small grey skinned creatures in the corner of his vision. The foreman tried to have him fired, but one of the night shift guards was attacked the same week.” Caleb leaned closer to Lucy, pulling a large folded A3 document from the glove box.

“Is he okay?” Lucy's voice held a deep concern for the stranger.

“He's recovering.” Caleb lit another cigarette before unfolding the paper, scanning the blueprint of the building. “It's actually a good thing he was attacked. It's the only reason this place has been shut down, it could have been a lot worse if they kept ignoring the problem.”

“That's a rather dark way of looking at it, isn't it?” Lucy rolled down her window, giving the smoke an escape route.

“Hisk are pack animals.” Caleb explained. “And they reproduce at an exceptional rate. The longer you leave them to take root, the bigger the nest gets.” He drew in a slow, deep drag. “Eventually they get bold, move from hunting rats and birds to hunting family pets, and eventually people.”

“But they already attacked the guard.” Lucy pulled her hand gun, checking the magazine.

“Yeah, but that was one warrior, and it let him go when he ran. If they were hunting there would have been more, and he probably wouldn't have gotten away.” Caleb took out a pen and quickly circled an access door on the drawing. “He was about to check the basement when he got attacked. That's where they keep the boilers, heat pumps, distribution boards etcetera, so it's warm. Plus it's the closest thing to a cave around here.”

“So that's where they hide in the day?” Lucy produced a torch from her pocket.

“If I had to guess, I'd say so.” Caleb pushed the door open, stepping out into the mid afternoon sun and circling to the boot of the car to retrieve his shotgun, closely followed by Lucy. “It's certainly a good place to start looking.”

With a laboured groan the small metal door swung open, the interior illuminated by large LED fixtures that hung high above.

“This floor should be safe.” Caleb strolled in, the trench gun slung over his shoulder. “If things get sketchy, get back up here as quickly as you can, the light should keep them downstairs.”

“Should?” Lucy quickened her pace to keep up with her mentor.

“Well they're not vampires, they won't go up in flames or anything like that. But they can't see very well in the light. Think of it like pushing your face up against a flood light, painful but not so much you couldn't push through.” Caleb flicked his cigarette in front of him, crushing it out with his next step.

“what exactly do Hisk look like?” Lucy kept her sentences short, focusing on the task ahead.

“Mostly humanoid but small, about 3 feet tall.” Caleb slowed as he approached the access door that led to the basement. “Pale skin, big claws and teeth. Oh and they mainly use sound to get around, their eyes are mostly vestigial.”

“So try to stay quiet then. Good to know.”

Caleb gently pushed the door, trying to limit the shrill sound of the aging hinges. Quietly he pulled the shotgun from his shoulder, readying it for use as Lucy shone her torch past him, illuminating the staircase down. Wordlessly the pair began their descent, looking deep into the darkness for signs of movement as they went, every stray sound sending a pang of panic through the young woman. This wasn't the first case she had worked, less than a month ago she had been trekking through the forests of Montana in search of a large male Ogrin that had been seen attacking hikers, and before that she had helped to clear a pack of Garn Bats from and elderly woman's manner in France. However, the pitch darkness of the sprawling basement had managed to set her on edge. In a whisper she spoke.

“There must be lights down here, why don't we switch them on?” Caleb's voice was equally quiet as he responded.

“Bad idea. You'd wake them all up as well as whip them into a frenzy. Speaking of which, keep your torch low, don't want to let them know we are here.” Lucy hurriedly pointed it down, lighting the floor in front of them so as to not trip over any of the low pipe work that ran across the walkway.

Steadily they moved deeper, following the east wall. With each step Caleb was pulling slightly further ahead, leaving Lucy struggling to keep up while maintaining their silence. Suddenly he stopped, gesturing for his apprentice to stay put before vanishing into the dark. Lucy was totally alone, her unease growing with each second that passed, so much so she had to take a knee, drawing slow and silent breaths to steady herself. It felt like an eternity had passed already, each creak of heavy steel pipe or drop of leaking water startling her. Just as she had made the decision to follow after her mentor, he re-emerge from the depths of the dark, moving closer before speaking.

“This might be worse than we thought.” His voice was softer than before, almost inaudible.

“Why, what's the matter?” She shifted uncomfortably, gripping her gun tightly in her sweating hands.

“I count 3 corpses, probably more scattered about the place. The nest must be big.” he slung his weapon back over his shoulder before rummaging through his pockets. “Turn around for a second.” He pulled a piece of the chalk from his pocket. Lucy obliged, remaining on her knee as she presented her back to him.

“What are you doing?” She strained her neck in an attempt to look back as she felt him begin to draw on the back of her coat.

“Last resort.” He continued, his hand making small and precise movements as he spoke. “If we get separated and you're pushed into a corner, yell ‘Gostos’ and get low to the ground.”

“ ‘Gostos’ “ She muttered quietly, attempting to commit the phrase to memory. Soon CCaleb's scribbles were complete, Lucy turning back to face him as he pulled his weapon once again.

“Make sure you have a round in the chamber, it starts smelling pretty ripe up ahead so I think we are getting close.” The pair pressed on quietly, the air growing thick and foul with the smells of rot and waste, just as Caleb had warned. Finally they rounded another corner amongst the maze of machines, Caleb stopping dead in his tracks and signalling for Lucy to take a look. Carefully peering over his shoulder, she saw them for the first time.

Hisk are not your average monstrosity. Their small stature and thin limbs makes a single Hisk seem rather unimpressive, even with their sharp teeth. However, there was never just one, and in a large enough group they could be more formidable than any creature. This nest was exceptionally large, at least a hundred of them sleeping peacefully in a great heap on the floor, a handful of stragglers gnawing on bones nearby. Silently Caleb pulled the chalk from his pocket, slowly dragging it across the floor as Lucy prayed the quiet scratching noise wouldn't draw attention. Gently Caleb tapped her leg, drawing her eyes to the message he had written in his typical chicken scratch handwriting. ‘On my signal, box them in.’ Lucy hadn't noticed her instructor move before she was able to decipher his writing, looking up to see him lightly dusting a large area in front of her in salt (an act that utterly baffled her) as he silently edged closer to the huddled mass of creatures. Once in a position he deemed suitable he looked back at her, holding up 3 fingers. Then 2. Then 1.

Lucy placed her weapon beside her, quietly muttering to herself as she drew on every lesson in magic that Caleb had ever given her. Finally she placed both hands on the ground, a ring of intense and roaring flame bursting to life around the sleeping group. Quickly she saw their heads pop up, inhuman screams echoing through the concrete basement as they all gathered in the centre of the ring, desperate to escape the flames. With a thunderous bang Caleb fired his first round, the slug tearing through the frail bodies of the frantic creatures. Almost as soon as the ejected shell had left the chamber another shot rang out, buckshot pellets cutting through a large swathe of meat and teeth. Caleb held the trigger down, taking full advantage of the trench gun's ‘slamfire’ feature to empty its payload of hot lead as quickly as possible. As the shotgun ran dry he slung it back over his shoulder, drawing a handgun and slowly moving back towards Lucy as he continued picking off the enraged Hisk. Gradually the flames began dying down, the young woman's magic reserves feeling the strain of her sustained use. As Caleb pulled another spent magazine from his pistol the fire died completely, a moment of terrible silence taking hold again as the Hisk began to take notice.

All at once the suddenly rushed forward toward the pair, Lucy picked up her gun, her hands trembling as she took aim. As she prepared to pull the trigger she was caught off guard, the beasts yowling in pain, their flesh bubbling and burning on contact with the salt. She stood in morbid amazement as they began crawling over one another, showing no regard for the pained shrieks of their brethren as they continued forging a path towards the two. Her daze only broke as a much larger beast burst past the others, enduring the pain as it tackled Caleb and dragged him into the darkness. Lucy's eyes followed it until it was out of sight before snapping back to the screaming hoard that was forging a path toward her. She quickly began firing, over and over again, the trembling in her hands causing half of her shots to sail harmlessly into the darkness beyond the writhing mass of bodies. Growing desperate, she gathered all of the remaining magical energy she could muster, uttering a short string of words before a powerful concussive blast ripped through the air in front of her. The shock wave tore through the Hisk, killing some outright and hurling the rest against the far wall.

The blast was loud enough to cause the dozen or so remaining beasts great pain, stunning them long enough for Lucy to look around for any sign of Caleb, but to no avail. Soon they began regaining their senses, rounding on her once again as she frantically attempted to load another magazine. As it finally clicked into place she raised the weapon once again, only to feel the searing pain of razor sharp teeth piercing her coat and sinking into the soft flesh of her forearm. The Hisk dragged her to the ground, swiping at her as she fired the handgun into the growing pile of monsters on top of her. Her mind raced, swinging wildly from the possibility of escape to the seeming certainty of death until finally it held on a single word.

“Gostos!” The word rang out like thunder before the symbol on her back burst with a bright and roaring explosion, white hot fire ripping through the Hisk as well as the rest of the basement. Feeling the relief of her attackers sudden vaporisation she scrambled to her feet, sprinting back the way she had come and not stopping until she burst through the heavy steel door and into the brightly lit warehouse. Her wounds burned as she dropped to the ground, leaning against a large barrel as she stared back at the door to the basement. She could still hear banging and screeching from below, echoing and warping as the sounds moved up the stairs. Her mind fell on Caleb, guilt flooding in as she realised she had abandoned him in the dark. Gathering her courage she tried to stand, her legs betraying her and giving out as she slumped back to the hard concrete floor with a thud. She couldn't go back to help. She couldn't drag herself to the exit. All she could do now was wait, listening to the terrible sounds below as she did her best to tend to her wounds. As she tightened a makeshift tourniquet around her arm her ears pricked up, the loud screaming and clattering had turned to a cold silence. Her heart sat in her throat, waiting for any change as she sat on the cold ground. Finally the terrible silence was broken by the rhythmic thud of boots on stairs, with a relieved sigh Lucy leaned back against the barrel, watching on as the basement door swung open.

“I cannot believe that you ditched me.” Caleb chuckled as he spoke. His coat was tattered, long and deep claw marks going through the leather and steel, equally long slashes in the skin below. Despite this he seemed fine, no hints of pain in his face as he approached.

“You ditched me too!” Lucy exclaimed.

“I was dragged off by their queen. Not just a Hisk mind you, but a HUGE bitch. That's not the same as shitting your pants and bolting.” Caleb continued cracking up, kneeling next to Lucy to inspect her injuries.

“I did not ‘shit my pants’ I was dog piled by those little bastards!” Lucy felt a warmth as her instructor ran his fingers over her cuts and bite marks, looking down to see them closing as his hand passed over them. “Besides, you could have warned me that those runes you drew on me would explode!”

“you lived, didn't you?” Caleb actually sounded hurt by her accusatory tone. “I would have handled the queen faster if I wasn't afraid of bringing the building down on top of you.” Gently he pulled Lucy to her feet, most of her pain gone, save for a few aches and bruises. “Plus I knew you could handle yourself, you know I wouldn't let you die or anything like that."

Lucy sighed, that much at least was true. She had ended up in a few close calls during her time with the bureau, and while she had ended up with broken bones and deep cuts, Caleb had always stepped in before any ‘real harm’ could befall her. He wanted to give her time to try every option she could, magic was equal parts skill, power and imagination, the last being its main limiting factor. Experience was everything and while Caleb would try to teach anything she asked him to, there was no way to condense 3000 years of experience into a lesson. (At least no way that could be considered safe.)

Despite her close calls Lucy was actually considered to be thriving by I.B.O standards, still having all her limbs and no serious psychological issues. Somehow the former daycare secretary seemed to have found her calling alongside the organised chaos that was her mentor, even as her muscles screamed for rest.

“Alright.” Caleb pulled the keys to the car from his coat as they approached the exit. “You head back to the hotel and sleep this off, I'm going to linger here and make sure we didn't miss any stragglers.”

“Are you sure? I don't mind staying.” Lucy lied through her teeth, hoping desperately that he wouldn't call her bluff.

“Yeah, you've put in your hours. Plus you're going to need to be ready for next week.” Caleb idly began slotting fresh shells into his gun as Lucy gave him a confused look.

“What's happening next week?” Her tone was that of a perant who had just been informed of a school trip they had to pay for.

“I've been reassigned. 1 week each month I'm going to be stuck at the Academy teaching combative magic.” He racked the slide, chambering a slug.

“YOU signed up to teach? Like, actually teach people, in a classroom.?” Lucy furrowed her brow theatrically.

“Okay, first of all, go fuck yourself.” Caleb laughed as he responded. “I've taught you pretty well if I do say so myself.” He leaned against the door frame, the sun slowly starting to set in his view. “Secondly, I didn't just sign up on a whim, I'm doing it as a favour for someone.” Lucy paused as she considered what this actually meant.

“Wait, so what will I be doing all week?” She pocketed the keys, clearly planning to see this conversation to its conclusion.

“You'll be paired up with another apprentice and given an assignment. Business as usual, just without a supervisor looking over your shoulder.” Caleb spoke as if it were an obvious conclusion, but as far as she had been aware she wasn't supposed to be allowed to work unsupervised for another 6 months.

“Who will I be paired with?” Lucy did her best to draw as much information from him as possible.

“Fuck if I know. They probably will have been with the bureau for about as long as you have, so they shouldn't slow you down. Beyond that, I honestly couldn't tell you.” Caleb shrugged, turning back towards the interior of the building and calling back to her one last time as he went. “Like I said, go get some sleep. We'll be driving back after breakfast.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: 

Listen and learn

Monday rolled around faster than Caleb had hoped. He had arrived outside of Lucy's family home a few moments ago, clutching a lit cigarette between his teeth while he sat in the car, slowly scrolling through his phone as he waited. Lucy had only been late once while working with him, and in her defence it was because she had stopped to pick ammunition that he had asked for. Today however, Caleb had been sat in front of her home for 10 minutes, growing steadily impatient as time passed. Pinching the bridge of his nose he decided to send her a short text reading ‘Move your arse, or I'm going to put a round through your mothers kitchen window.’ Not 60 seconds later she came sprinting out of the front door, a heavy black duffle bag in her arms. Quickly she slung it in the boot, slamming the lid and climbing into the passenger door.

“Christ's sake, I was looking for my ID. You didn't have to be a bellend.” Her tone was sharp, clearly filled with stress.

“Well you don't want to be late. First solo assignment and all, I assume you want to make a good impression.” He quickly pulled away and began heading for the bureau's British headquarters.

“Sorry, punctuality isn't something you've ever seemed concerned about.” Again her voice carried a hint of anger.

“I literally cannot be fired, being on time doesn't matter for me.”

The car ride was a fairly short one, especially compared to their usual multi hour journeys, but Lucy found herself more and more nervous as the pulled into the parking complex. It was one thing to do her job with Caleb at her side, true he was rude and had a fairly short fuse on occasion. But he was a professional, and never put either of them in a situation he wasn't in control over. The idea of not only starting fresh, but with another trainee was weighing on her. Before she had time to worry herself any further both of them were stepping out of the car, Caleb looking over to her before tossing her the keys.

“Go the the registration office, they'll give you your assignment and partner.” he pause as he was about to turn away, pulling a small locket decorated with runes from his pocket. “Oh and take this.” He slid it over the cars roof to her.

“What is it?” Lucy inspected the bauble suspiciously.

“A last resort.” He smiled, looking at her concerned expression as she held it a little further from her face. “This one won't explode, I promise. If you're in real trouble just open it.” Lucy carefully pocketed it, looking up to ask what exactly it would do, only to see Caleb walking towards the Academy building. She took a deep breath and headed for the office.

Lucy entered the newly constructed building and made a dash for the front desk. She hadn't been here since graduating from the academy, and even then it was only for a brief visit while she was assigned to a mentor. Quickly she marched to the main desk and smiled at the older man sitting behind it.

“Uh.. hello. I'm Lucy Williams.” She slid her bureau ID across the smooth counter, the secretary regarding it with lifeless eyes. “I'm here for my assignment.” Slowly the man's face rose to look at her.

“One moment please.” His voice was monotone and dry, if sandpaper had an audible equivalent she had just found it. Carefully the man stood and retreated to a back room, returning a few moments later with a thick file that he dropped in front of her.

“Oh and I believe I'm supposed to meet my partner here.” She risked another bout of the man's voice, only for him to be interrupted as a dishevelled and disorganised young woman burst breathlessly through the main door, gasping as if she had just sprinted for her life.

“There she is.” Chimed the sandpaper man as he slumped back into his roller chair.

Quickly Lucy picked up the file and moved towards the stranger, her face seemed familiar but she just couldn't seem to place it.

“Umm... are you alright?” Lucy asked, waiting for the woman to catch her breath.

“I'm... fine...just... need a second.” Each word was interrupted by another heavy breath before she finally took one last huge gulp of air. “Sorry, my mother dropped me off on the other side of the campus. I had to sprint the rest of the way.”

“You've been working with your mother?” Lucy couldn't help but sound surprised.

“Oh no, she's a teacher here. My instructor is over at the American branch for the week.” The stranger dug through her bag, pulling a bottle of water out and pulling back the whole thing.

“Oh, well I'm Lucy, I'll be working with you this week.” She reached out to shake her hand.

“Elaine, but everyone calls me El.” El returned the gesture, her grip firm and callused.

“Nice to meet you, El.” Lucy smiled brightly, doing her best to hide her lingering concern as she greeted her new partner. “Shall we?” She gestured at the door.

Outside the two headed toward the car, stopping at the vehicle's front to lay the file out in its bonnet.

“So, what kind of cases do you normally work?” El seemed to be making a genuine effort to show an interest as she spoke.

“Normally hunting missions, we cleared a hisk nest last week.” Lucy glanced up, taken aback by the surprised look on the other woman's face.

“Seriously?” El's tone was almost accusatory. “I thought that apprentices weren't allowed on monster hunts.”

“Not that anyone's told me. Actually it's more or less all that I've done.” Lucy took off her coat, showing off a scar from where one of the Hisk had bitten her. El examined it closely, gently holding Lucy's arm as she looked it over.

“I was going to say ‘lucky you’ but that is a pretty nasty one.” El released her gentle grip. “Whoever healed you did a nice job, another few minutes and there probably wouldn't be a scar.” El flipped open the file beginning to tumble through it, Lucy examining her arm before pulling her coat back on.

“So what are we looking at?” She stepped closer, leaning in to read over El's shoulder.

“Doesn't look like a hunt.” There was a tangible disappointment in El's expression. “A series of unexplained magical incidents in... Bi-rming-ham?” El squinted, knowing she had butchered the pronunciation.

“Birmingham.” Lucy corrected her in the same way a school teacher might.

“To my credit your writing is nothing like Alnian, everything takes so long to write.” El looked away, slightly embarrassed.

“I thought Alnian was more or less the same as English." Lucy did her best to hide the fact she hadn't realised the woman was not from her world.

“When spoken, yes, the two languages only have small differences.” El brightened, any embarrassment evaporating with thoughts of home. “But written out they are completely different, it's one of the reasons why your people have so much trouble learning magic. All texts on the subject are in Alnian, so without a translator it can be tricky.”

“Ahh, that explains why there were never any textbooks in the academy." Lucy flipped another page in the file, stopping as her eyes flitted back to the same section again. “This is odd.”

“What's the matter?” El followed her eyes to the subject of their focus.

“Well new magic users tend to favor one type of magic as they learn, right? I mostly use fire magic because it comes the most naturally to me.” Lucy pulled a small handful of photos from the file, each depicting what appeared to be the aftermath of a magical explosion.

“Right, it's easiest to learn one type at a time. Some people never learn more than that.” El followed Lucy's gaze as she scanned each photo.

“Well we seem to have at least one incident with each type, which WOULD suggest experience. Except...” Lucy flipped back a page. “Here it says a corpse was found at the epicentre of each blast.” 

“So each was a different person?” El pulled the file closer, quickly scanning across it. “And they all happened within a month of one another.”

“Magical suicide bombings?” Lucy half shrugged as the words left her lips.

“I'm not so sure.” El leaned back, collecting her thoughts. “Back in Alnia there was a rash of narcotics going around. Criminals went around robbing alchemists for a substance called Maget Powder.” She continued flipping through, clearly looking for something.

“And what exactly is Maget Powder?” Lucy furrowed her brow, watching as her new partner sifted through photos.

“When a plant grows near a large source of mana, it gets absorbed into it. When properly dried, ground down, brewed and distilled it becomes the base for almost every potion we use.” She stopped on a picture of one of the deceased belongings. “But if you don't bother to brew it and just ingest the powder, it can give a massive boost to someone's mana reserves, so much so that it can even give people with no magical power the ability to cast spells for a short time.”

“I'm guessing it has its drawbacks?” Lucy grimaced at the thought.

“Oh yeah. People don't always react well to it, and even if they do, too much can spell catastrophe. After being refined it's almost pure magical potential, if even a veteran of magical use takes too much it can begin ripping them apart from the inside." As El spoke, Lucy's head was filled with vivid memories of her mentor explaining the dangers of over extending yourself when casting.

“So you think that these are overdoses?” Lucy replied, examining the picture El had removed from the case file.

“See this?” El pointed to a small metal box among the man's possessions, the Alnian symbol for magic stamped on it. “I can't be certain without looking at it in person. But I'd be willing to bet that Maget Powder was involved.” Lucy nodded thoughtfully.

“Then let's go have a look for ourselves.” She pulled the keys from her pocket, moving to the drivers side of the car.

____________________________________

Meanwhile, Caleb stood in the academy's empty hallway as he stared at the door to his new classroom. He had taught one on one and been very effective, but he had never taught in a classroom before. He'd never been much good at lectures, and the handful of speeches he had given in the past all contained a liberal use of the words ‘fuck’ and ‘cunt’ as well as causing at least one riot. Slowly bracing himself, his blissful silence was interrupted from within.

“WHAT HAVE YOU REDUCED YOURSELF TO?” Came the voice in the most conversational tone it could muster.

“Some people say that teaching is the highest calling of all.” Caleb's reply was half hearted and full of dread.

“ ‘SOME PEOPLE’ DO NOT HAVE THE CAPABILITY TO TURN A CONTINENT INTO A FLAT GLASS FLOOR.” The Voice responded.

“And I am thankful for that fact. I think about how lucky I am every morning while I shit.” Caleb chuckled to himself.

“YOU NEEDN'T REMIND ME OF HOW DISGUSTING YOUR VESSEL IS.” If a voice in your head could retch, it just did.

“Hey, I think I look pretty good for my age.” He checked his reflection in a glass display cabinet. “Not a day over 1500.”

“IF YOU INSIST.” The Voice sighed. An impressive feat for something that doesn't breathe.

“Right.” Caleb said, steeling himself. “We're late for class.”

The door to the lecture hall swung open, startling the group of 20 or so students that had taken their positions to chat amongst themselves. They're shock didn't fade as a face the all recognised stepped into the room, taking his position behind the front desk.

“Good...” Caleb stopped suddenly to check his watch. “Afternoon, everyone. I'm Caleb and I'll be leading your classes on Combative Magic. Please do not call me, Sir, or Mister or late for dinner.” He paused again, waiting for a chuckle that never arrived. “Not a laughing bunch I see.” A slow and cautious hand rose from the group, attached to a young man with short dark hair.

“Si... I mean... Caleb?” The boys voice was shy and full of regret for drawing attention to himself.

“Yes, lad? What can I do for you?” Caleb did his best to sound approachable.

“Y-you are the man in the Sonora Desert footage, right?” The boy was referring to news footage of his clash with Queen Nisa. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Caleb pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it.

“I am he. Yes.” His voice was monotone and irritated as the room erupted in murmurs and chatter. “Right. You clearly all have questions and we aren't going to get anywhere until I've answered some, yes?” The rows of heads nodded in unison. Caleb gave an exasperated sigh. “Fuck it, fine. You, shoot.” He pointed to a young woman, her hair in a tight ponytail.

“Oh... umm... who are you?” She finally spat out, clearly ill prepared to be called on.

“My name is Caleb Trask, the Alnians among us might know me by the name Enoch. If you call me Enoch, I will hit you. I lived here on Earth for the first 20 odd years of my life but got snatched up by one of the small rifts. I spent the next 3000 years or so in Alnia as an enforcer for the Queen. Next.” His hand swung across, pointing to a young Goliath boy, holding a hand up eagerly.

“Oh, oh, why did you attack the queen?” His voice was deep and held no sign of fear as he spoke.

“Direct, I like you. The short answer is that my ex wife brainwashed me into committing multiple genocides in her name, and I just didn't find it as sexy as she did.” The room was suddenly flooded with chatter, one voice calling though.

“You were married to the Queen?” It asked from the crowd.

“Yes, as I just said. Honestly a bit of a wasted question. Next?” Far more hands shot up this time, all hoping to pry into his personal life. Caleb closed his eyes and pointed at random, picking out a large pair of glasses with a man child attached to them. “Good God, how did a nine year old get in here.”

“Actually I'm 17 sir. I was wondering how you are so strong.” The glasses said, most likely working the boy like a puppet. Caleb gave him a blank stare before shaking himself back to focus.

“First of all, not a sir. Seeing as you've only just left the womb I'll let it go this time. Secondly my ex was just an ambitious witch when I met her. She sealed a Demon in me to help make me strong. Plus I soak up magic like a biscuit in milky tea so I can output massive amounts when required.” As he mentioned the word demon the class once again erupted in chatter and conversation. Seemingly ignoring his presence until another volley of hands rose. “Yes, you, the missing Gallagher brother.” finally a small wave of chuckles as the class looked at the young man with a 90s haircut.

“What do you mean Demon?” The boy asked, not letting the critique shake his confidence.

“I mean a Demon.” He held out a hand, a purple flame the size of his head erupting from it.

“MUST I SUFFER THE INDIGNITY OF BEING SUMMONED FOR CHILDREN!?” The Voice screamed, finally audible to more than just Caleb.

“This is Howard. No that is not his real name, put your fucking hand back down.” He glanced at the Goliath boy who's hand quickly shrank into the crowd. “I call him Howard because his real name is very long and hard to pronounce correctly without swallowing your own tongue.” The flame flashed and warped in his hand, clearly not a fan of the name Howard. “I've known him for about 3000 years, he's like an imaginary friend that you can't trust with sharp objects.” The class marvelled at the brilliant flame for another moment before Caleb dispersed it. Seemingly more comfortable, the class continued their nattering as Caleb stood at the end of the room. After allowing them a moment he clapped his hands once, each student snapping to attention as he took another drag of his cigarette. “Right then you lot.” He picked up a marker, writing the initial of each weekday on the whiteboard. “I am here for the rest of the week, but after that I will be gone until next month. That means we have 5 days to work with each other this month. I say, let's start with a practical.” The fire alarm above Caleb's head began to blare, not getting past the first beep before he vaporised it with a bolt of lightning. “...I'm given to understand you have some kind of training area?” He took another satisfying drag.

“It's just outside.” Chimed the voice of the girl with the ponytail.

“Outstanding, lead on.” The class rose in a matter of seconds, bags and notebooks abandoned as they filed out of the door behind the young girl.

The training area was the size of a football pitch, ringed in seating areas and covered in sand, steel targets lined one end with distance markings opposite them. The rest of the field was filled with fairly standard fitness equipment and at the centre was a large square of concrete that appeared to be an arena. Caleb gazed longingly at the slab before muttering. 

“Probably a bit early in the game for that.” His voice dripping with disappointment. As the students heaved on the heavy practice coats that stank of other people's use, Caleb spoke again. “Right, line up in front of the targets at the 10 meter mark. We will go from there.” Each of the students took a place on the 10 meter mark, excitedly waiting for orders. “Starting from the side closest to me, on my signal you will take it in turns firing a blast of your choosing at the target. Give it everything you have.” Caleb pulled a small note pad and pen from his coat. “Ready? Number one fire!” As Caleb gave the order a small bolt of red flame shot from the young girls hand, leaving a small scorch mark on the steel target. Caleb quickly made a note. “Number 2, fire!” The next student fired, with similar results. One by one they took turns, several blasts of flame and lightning ripping across the field, even the occasional shot of ice. Finally each had given their effort, leaving most surprisingly exhausted.

“How was that?” Asked the Goliath boy as he took slow and deep breaths.

“Awful. If that were anything with teeth, all of you would have done is made it angry.” He scanned over the crowd, his eyes falling on a Halfling woman. “You.” He pointed at her.

“Me, si... Caleb?” A look of concern plastered itself across her face as she was singled out.

“Yes, you. Your attack was the strongest by a respectable margin, but it moved slow enough that you wouldn't have hit anything with a desire to live.” Caleb sauntered onto the firing range. “Take a shot at me.”

“What now?” The halfling froze.

“Here.” He held out a hand, the Halfling wincing at first before feeling her strength returning to her. “That should be plenty of mana. Now take a shot at me.”

“I'm not really sure I'm comfortable with..” Caleb cut her off mid sentence.

“I'm not trying to humiliate you, I'm trying to prove a point. You're clearly the most experienced here, I mean what are you 40?” He cocked his head to one side slightly as he asked the question.

“53 actually.” She sheepishly lowered her gaze, her classmates shocked by this chronological upset. Her small stature and youthful look placed her in her early 20s (roughly equivalent to 50 years for a halfling due to their lifespan.)

“Don't worry about me. If you actually manage to wound me I'll give you a passing grade right now.” Caleb's moment was flippantly but honest as he stood before her. Slowly she drew in a deep breath.

“Are you ready?” She asked, met with a decisive nod from her instructor. She took aim and Suddenly a much larger fireball than before burst forth. It moved faster than the previous one, but not by much, comfortably slow enough for Caleb to take a single step to the left and allow it to sail past him. There was a moment's pause as the others looked on in amazement at the decently sized attack.

“Ooops... looks like I gave you more power than I thought.” Caleb looked back at the blackened target behind him. “But my point still stands. Raw power will get you nowhere if your attacks can't hit a moving target, you need to find balance in your casting.”

The remainder of class was spent on the range, each student attempting to find a sweet spot between speed and power as Caleb kept them topped up with magic. Slowly each showed signs of improvement, but only so much could be achieved in 1 day.

“Alright you pack of fuckmuppets.” Caleb called out over the sounds of flame and thunder. “I don't know if you have another class today, but I know that I don't. Collect your things and I'll see you all tomorrow for some theory.” He turned and began walking away, the gaggle of prospective apprentices following behind him.

____________________________________

Lucy and El were nearing Birmingham, the car filled with chatter as El continued to study the file from the passenger seat. 

“So what's the plan?” She asked, trying and failing to hide her excitement.

“Well, when I'm with Caleb, after we drive up we check into our hotel, introduce ourselves to the local police and go over any new information they have for us.” Lucy sounded as if she were reading from a mental checklist.

“That sounds... practical.” El responded with diminished enthusiasm.

“Yeah, the first day is usually dull. But it gives us a chance to look at that box from the photographs, and come up with a plan of action if we are looking for some kind of dealer.” A silence fell over the two as Lucy thought for a moment. “You said that there was a Maget Powder epidemic back in Alnia. How did they catch the dealers the last time?”

“It was a bit before my time, I'm afraid.” El leaned back in her seat as she spoke. “My father was sent to handle it, then the next day it wasn't an issue anymore.”

“Was he a guard or something?” Lucy tried to tow the line between friendly conversation and digging into her companions' family life.

“He was... definitely something.” El's tone was grim and unsure. “I suppose it's not entirely his fault. My mother played a large role in who he was.”

“How do you mean?” Lucy pushed her luck a little more as they pulled into the hotel's parking area.

“Well by her own admission, when she became Queen she became more...” El's train of thought crashed as Lucy slammed on the breaks, staring at her partner like a deer in headlights.

“Queen?.. that would mean that...” the wheels in Lucy's head were audibly spinning. “Caleb is your father?!”

“I thought you knew that already?" El was taken aback by Lucy's surprise.

“How? How would I possibly know that?" The car stayed stationary as she spoke.

“Well I'm the one who asked him to teach for a while. A friend of mine is at the Academy, I wanted to make sure she got the best chance at being able to defend herself when she gets paired with a mentor.” El looked away slightly, feeling a small pang of guilt for not telling her new friend outright. “I'm sorry, I really didn't think it mattered.” Lucy took a breath, finally pulling in and parking the car.

“No need to apologise. You don't owe me the details of your life.” She shut off the engine. “But it does mean we have a new plan.”

“Does it?” El's eyes darted back to Lucy.

“Oh yeah. We check into the hotel, get a drink and then I'm going to ask you a bunch of questions about your dad... if that's okay?” Lucy crossed her fingers, hoping she hadn't overstepped.

“That sounds like a great idea!” El beamed back at her.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: 

Heavy is the Crown

Nisa pressed her back against the wall. She knew it didn't actually make any difference, but it made her feel better. She had been feeling off all day, as if a pit had opened in her stomach that wouldn't go away. It lingered through each of her classes, making her feel sick as it persisted. She was grateful as a free period rolled around, taking the opportunity to make some tea in the teachers lounge when she made the mistake of glancing out of the window. The moment she looked outside her eyes snapped to Caleb, blowing smoke as he walked out into the parking area. As quickly as she had seen him she saw his head snap back in her direction, looking directly at her as he stopped in his tracks. With as much speed as she could manage, she slammed her back against the wall to get out of view, the pit in her stomach twisting and knotting into a feeling of absolute fear. Her mind raced and her chest tightened, each breath taking all of her strength as she felt her body grow cold. With what little courage she could find, she leaned back toward the glass pain, scanning the world outside.

Caleb was gone, but the wretched and corrosive feeling of terror remained. Nisa's mind raced and flooded with questions; ‘why was he here?’, ‘did he actually see her, or was it some horrible coincidence?’, ‘did he come here for her?’ Nisa's thoughts continued to swirl in her head as she fought the urge to be sick. She hadn't seen him since the day he had almost killed her, her continued existence seeming to hinge on his ever unpredictable state of mind. She knew that she needed answers, but her legs were stubbornly refusing to obey, her hands echoing a similar mentality as they trembled without end. Shaking, Nisa slumped back into a chair, slowly breathing until she felt the weight on her chest beginning to shift with time. One thing was clear, she needed to chat with the head mistress.

Nisa brushed past the protesting secretary, pushing open the door to the headmistress's office and marching inside, the poor secretary following behind. Finally Nisa stopped, standing silently at the end of a large modern desk until a disinterested set of eyes raised past a pair of wire frame glasses to meet her.

“I was hoping that we might have a word.” Nisa's voice was sharp, but remained professional as the small, greying woman looked past her to the panicking secretary.

“Thank you Luka, that will be all.” She nodded to the young man, signaling him to make his exit with some gusto. “What can I do for you, Nisandra?” The headmistress spoke softly but firmly.

“For a start. Could you explain why Enoch has been roaming the campus all day?” Nisa struggled to keep herself calm as she spoke.

“I believe it's best you not call him that.” The headmistress's tone didn't change at all.

“Enoch, Caleb, I really don't care what he calls himself Ms. Keal. Why was he here?” Nisa's voice grew louder as she loomed over the short, aging woman.

“He is here to teach, just like you are, Nisandra.” Ms. Keal made a point to use her full name. They had worked together for over a year, and never once had she called her ‘Nisa’. “And I'm afraid he will be here tomorrow as well.”

“He tried to murder me! And my daughter!” Nisa had dropped any attempt at professionalism.

“From what I'm told, he had quite a good reason.” Ms. Keal's tone suddenly grew stern in response to Nisa's hostility.

“Get rid of him.” Snapped Nisa.

“I can't. He outranks me.” Ms. Keal looked back to the pile of paperwork in front of her, a silence covering the room for a moment.

“What do you mean ‘outranks’ you?” Nisa spoke through gritted teeth, he patience beginning to fail her.

“After YOU brought your people to this world, he spoke with members of the D.O.M.A and helped them set up the Bureau and the Academy. He is one of the main reasons they both exist.” Ms. Keal continued her work as she spoke. “He is also the backbone of our defence against magical threats.” Her eyes returned to Nisa briefly as she said the word ‘threats’.

“So give him a field assignment, or a position at the Academy in America. Why does he have to be here?” Nisa reigned in her anger, despite Ms. Keal's age and lack of any magical ability, something about her made Nisa uncomfortable.

“I can't. Despite the fact that he came to me and, very politely might I add, asked my permission to work here, he did it out of courtesy. The only reason he doesn't have my job, or Luther's is because he didn't want them. If I attempt to transfer him now, there is nothing stopping him from taking my job and reassigning himself back here.” Ms. Keal placed her pen back on the desk with a noisy clack. “Now is there anything else?”

“...No Ms. Keal, that will be all.” Nisa sighed, her shoulders sinking as she turned and exited the small office.

Ms. Keal did not like Nisandra. She had given up her title as Queen of the Alnians as part of her deal to gain asylum for her citizens, but that hadn't stopped her from attempting to make demands and give orders. However, she was an authority on almost all kinds of magic, and regardless of Ms. Keal's personal feelings on the woman, she was an asset to the school. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she pressed a small button on her desk, the device buzzing before she spoke.

“Luka, could you be a lamb and fetch me something to drink, please.” She released the button before hearing a slightly crackling response.

“Yes, Ms. Keal. Right away.”

¤                                                                                  ¤

Lucy and El sat in the hotel bar, each nursing a drink as they smiled and laughed.

“He really didn't warn you?” El could barely get the words out, laughing aggressively as she did.

“Nope, he just told me it was ‘a last resort’, absolutely terrified me!” Lucy took a hearty swig from her wine glass. “Don't get me wrong, it probably saved my life. But I would have appreciated a warning. I spent an hour washing the chalk off afterwards, just to make sure it wouldn't happen again by accident.” She leaned back comfortably in her chair.

“I think he did it on purpose, wanted to give you a fright.” El sipped a beer, savouring the taste.

“I'm not sure, honestly I don't think he's all there.” Lucy's response was happy, but her words were chosen with care.

“What do you mean?” El shot her a quizzical look from across the table.

“Well... he's just a bit off. Half the time he doesn't even know what day it is. God, for the first month he couldn't remember my name.” Lucy took another large sip.

“Ah, well in his defence he is 3000 years old, I doubt days of the week really mean anything to him at this point. And maybe he just didn't bother to learn your name for a while in case you died, or requested a new mentor.” El did her best not to make the last part sound like an insult.

“I suppose that's possible. But there are other things, I've caught him talking to himself more than once.” She idly fiddled with the stem of her wine glass.

“Oh that's probably the Demon my mother sealed inside of him.” El spoke as if what she was saying was normal.

“She sealed what in the who now?” Lucy sat up straight again, eyebrows raised.

“A Demon. I think she said he calls it Howard.” Once again El's tone didn't convey how odd such a statement was, choosing to focus more on her beer.

“...I'm surprised your mother talks about him, all things considered. He doesn't really talk about her, all he told me was that she took control of his mind and made him do terrible things. That's why he went after her in the desert.” Lucy did her best to play it cool, quietly asking a passing member of wait staff for another glass of wine.

“She opened up about him a bit more after that day. Explained that not everything she told me about him was true. I still wasn't pleased about him spiking my head into the dirt, but it's what made me decide to speak to him after it.” El's expression darkened slightly, her thoughts clearly weighing on her. “Meeting him after almost 100 years was strange. I could see the version of him my mother told me stories about. The brave and brutal conqueror that helped build her kingdom, but I also saw another side to him.”

“How so?” Lucy kept her reply short, trying to encourage the woman to keep talking without interrupting her.

“He spared me. God, he spared my mother. After everything she had told me and seeing the hate in his eyes, I didn't think mercy was something he was capable of.” A crestfallen expression fell over her face as she spoke.

“But you said you'd spoken to him after, he even agreed to teach because you asked him.” Lucy's second drink arrived.

“True enough. He really does hate my mother, there's no doubt about that.” El polished off her 6th beer. “But it's hard to tell what he thinks about me.”

“I can't say I blame him. A child he didn't know he had, with a woman he can't stand the sight of? That's a difficult possession for anyone to be in.” Lucy was taken aback by how naturally she came to his defence. In the months that she and Caleb had worked together she'd grown quite fond of him, going so far as to consider them friends.

“I suppose you're right.” El paused as another beer was placed in front of her. “Still. I'm hopeful that I can at least get to know him.”

“If not, don't blame yourself. He is a bit of a dick.” The pair laughed, finishing off their drinks before standing. “I'll get the bill, you head upstairs. We start at 8:00 tomorrow.”

¤                                                                                  ¤

Caleb sat atop the Royal Albert Hall, looking out at the city ahead of him as the late afternoon sun painted the maze of concrete and glass in a warm orange glow. He was content. In the 2 and a half years he had been back home, he'd come to realise he had most missed the food, and the music.

True Alnian food wasn't bad, but nothing compared to the deeply unhealthy experience of punching a burger down your throat, swiftly followed by an unimaginably sweet drink. Alnian music was also less enjoyable. Some of it was well written and beautifully performed, but short of forcing a bard into a sack under the threat of great violence, it was not something you could enjoy on the go. Caleb enjoyed his solitude and his burger, his head gently bobbing as his headphones blasted ‘New York Groove’ by Ace Frehley. He was home.

As if sensing an unacceptable level of enjoyment, Howard spoke up.

“WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?” He asked, his perpetual shout cutting through the song like a car horn.

“Enjoying ourselves.” Caleb pulled one headphone of his ear, as if it would somehow make it easier to hear a voice in his head.

“IS LISTENING TO LOUD MUSIC REALLY A GOOD USE OF OUR TIME?” The voice almost sounded like a bored toddler asking to leave the shop.

“Oi, you said you didn't like Chumbawamba which is a fair enough opinion. But if you complain about this song I'm going to reach into that corner of my brain and strangle you.” Caleb leaned back on one hand as he took another bite.

“I DO NOT OBJECT TO THE MUSIC.” The voice was slightly quieter, surprised by the threat. “BUT WHY DO YOU INSIST ON BEING ALONE?”

“I'm never alone, remember? It's not like I can fob you off on a babysitter for the evening.” Caleb, held out a hand, an ethereal and gently glowing duplicate of himself appearing at his fingertips, wearing a hat that read ‘I'm with stupid’.

Slowly its eyes traced the horizon, taking in the city before it spoke.

“I APPRECIATE THAT THIS PLACE HOLDS BEAUTY. BUT IT CONCERNS ME TO SEE YOU ISOLATE YOURSELF.” Howard's voice came, projected from the duplicate.

“Since when are you ever ‘concerned’ about me?” Caleb squinted in confusion at the thought.

“DESPITE OUR MANY... DISAGREEMENTS.” The voice considered its words as it spoke. “I'VE GROWN TO CALL YOU FRIEND. IT IS RARE I AM IN ANYONE'S COMPANY FOR SO LONG.”

“I wouldn't exactly call you a willing companion.” Caleb held the drink towards the duplicate, its hand hesitating before accepting it.

“NORE YOU. BUT WE MAKE THE BEST OF WHAT WE CAN.” Howard took a cautious sip from the straw. “...IN ALL MY YEARS, THIS IS THE MOST ENJOYABLE THING I HAVE EVER TASTED.” His voice was the most sincere Caleb had ever heard it.

“Now you're catching on. We spent so long living for the Queen, I think it's only fair we steal these small moments for ourselves. Joy is fleeting, it only exists in a few moments at a time. Your best option is to hold onto those moments as long as you can.” Caleb took another bite of his burger.

“I SEE THE WISDOM IN THESE WORDS.” Howard took another long sip.

“And seeing as teaching gives us a lot of free time, why not capitalise on it? It's been over 3000 years since I've gone to a cinema.” Caleb pulled his phone from his pocket, checking nearby screenings.

“WHAT IS A ‘CINEMA’?” The Demon tried and failed to sound disinterested.

“An excuse to eat popcorn and drink an obscene amount of sugar filled drinks.” Caleb booked 2 tickets to a showing of Nosferatu 

“I WOULD LIKE TO TRY ‘POPCORN’.” The word did not sit comfortably on the voice's tongue.

Quickly the two made their way to the theatre, getting 2 large buckets of popcorn and drinks from a deeply confused teenage cashier who struggled not to ask why one of the apparent twins was glowing slightly. 

Much to Caleb's shock, Howard remained quiet for the whole duration of the film (other than his loud crunching and slurping) only speaking again as they exited.

“So what did you think?” Caleb asked as he stretched.

“I ENJOYED THE POPCORN AND BEVERAGE.” Howard responded, pausing for a moment. “HOWEVER, THE FILM LEFT ME CONFUSED.”

“How so?” Caleb continued walking, entering the street as they spoke.

“DID THAT YOUNG WOMAN FUCK THE VAMPIRE TO DEATH?” Howard's question stopped Caleb dead in his tracks as he began cackling.

“Not the most elegant way of putting it... but yes, I believe she did.” Caleb took a moment to collect himself.

“SEEMS LIKE AN INEFFICIENT WAY TO KILL A VAMPIRE. AND IT SEEMED TO RENDER THE REST OF THE PLOT IRRELEVANT." The Voice took a sip of the comic lyrics large drink that it had left the theatre with.

“And how do you figure that?” Caleb asked, a note of scepticism in his voice.

“REGARDLESS OF HER HUSBANDS INTERVENTION, SHE HAS SEX WITH THE VAMPIRE AND IT DIES. SHE COULD HAVE DONE THAT FROM THE MOMENT HE ARRIVED AND AVOIDED THE MANY DEATHS THAT FOLLOWED.” It took another long sip as it finished its explanation.

“...But...but then... oh yeah.” Caleb gazed off into space, attempting to find the flaw in his counterpart's argument.

¤                                                                                  ¤

El awoke to the harsh light of the morning sun as it spread through a gap in her curtain. Quickly she went through her morning routine, securing her hair in a tight bun and pulling on her heavy coat, stopping only to notice a note that had been slipped under her door, taking her time to muddle through the short message as she read ‘Gone downstairs for breakfast, meet you there.’

El tentatively stepped into the elevator, still mad uneasy by its unnatural movement as it began lowering with a slight jerk. A gentle ping noise signaled that she had reached the ground floor, drawing her eyes up as the doors opened. Lucy glanced up from her breakfast, waving to El as she approached.

“Grab something to eat, I want to quickly read through this again before we head out.” Lucy gestured to the open file on the table next to her food. With a nod of acknowledgement, El disappeared briefly, returning with a plate piled high with cooked breakfast meats and eggs.

“Seen anything we missed yesterday?” El sat across from the mess of red hair that was Lucy.

“Not really, I just want to make sure I have all the facts straight before we start. Local police are usually helpful, but they can be quite critical of Bureau agents.” Lucy thumbed through the paper as she moved onto a cup of coffee.

“Why would they be critical of us?” El's voice was muffled by a mouthful of bacon.

“The Bureau is only a few years old, some police officers still think it's some kind of joke. I've been called the “Magic Police” at least three separate times since I've been doing field work.” Lucy answered, not looking up from the file. “And with the locations being considered crime scenes, plus the fact we don't have a supervisor with us, I want to make sure we are on the ball.” Lucy finally looked up, stopping as she realised that El had eliminated all but a single piece of sausage from her plate already.

“You ready to go?” El asked, finishing her meal.

“Uhh... yeah, let's make a move.” Lucy answered.

The pair piled into the car, Lucy fastening her seat belt with her left hand as the other turned the key in the ignition.

“The police station is nearby, should only be 5 minutes or so.” Lucy spoke as she reversed the vehicle, pulling out into the street with the fluid grace of someone who had been stuck in the passenger seat for the last 6 months.

“By the way.” El spoke up as they set off. “Are those guns in the boot yours?”

“God no.” Replied Lucy, focusing on the road. “You need to be a fully fledged Agent, AND take a secondary long gun course to be allowed to carry those. They belong to Caleb.”

“He uses guns?” El asked, clearly baffled by the notion.

“Of course, all Bureau agents are required to carry a weapon.” Lucy's eyes never left the busy road ahead of them.

“Yes but... he doesn't really need them. I just assumed he carried a pistol to stay in compliance with the Bureau requirements.” El pulled her own weapon from its holster, checking it over.

“I said the same thing during our first week. He told me ‘trench gun goes CHA-CHUNK.’ which I assume that just means he likes them.” Lucy pictured the terrifying contraption that was Caleb's weapon of choice. He had let her fire it once but being unprepared for the recoil of a shotgun, the firearm nearly dislocated her shoulder as she pulled the trigger.

Lucy was right, only a short while passing before the pair found themselves at the doorstep of the west Birmingham police station. The drab red brick building giving way to a small reception area as the pair pushed through the double doors. Quickly the two made their way towards the desk, Lucy smiling at the bored looking constable currently jabbing at a keyboard.

“Hello, we are with the Bureau of Occultism.” Lucy slid her ID onto the desk, prompting El to do the same. “We are here about the recent incidents around the city. Your station contacted us, and said they suspected a magical element was involved.” The young man looked up, his dark eyes peering through a Web of messy brown curls as he inspected the badges in front of him.

“Just a moment, please. I'll call a Sergeant out to speak with you.” He stood, quickly vanishing through a door behind the desk.

El looked around, the sterile feeling of the white walls making the room feel much much cleaner than it actually was. Lucy picked her ID back up, about to stuff it in her pocket as another door swung open. A purposeful stride carried in a woman dressed in an immaculate uniform, the deep brown of her skin starkly contrasting against the uncomfortably white walls around them. Pushing a stray stand of har behind her ear she spoke with a small and professional smile.

“Hello, I'm Sargent Watson. You two are the Bureau agents?” He tone was welcoming, but she kept her introduction short.

“Yes.” Lucy responded, once again presenting her ID. “Well, technically we're apprentices. I'm Lucy and this is my partner Elaine.”

“El is fine.” El reached out, firmly shaking the Sargent's hand.

“Is it standard practice to send two apprentices out on assignments together?” The Sargent's voice was thankfully full of curiosity rather than annoyance.

“No, but each of our senior Agents have been pulled away on special assignments for the week.” Lucy tried not to let a subtle look of worry rest on her face. “But I promise that we are more than capable.”

“I believe you.” The Sargent smiled again. “In all honesty one of you Academy students would be more than helpful. We don't really know what we're looking at.”

“Well we're happy to help in any way we can.” Lucy felt a flood of relief, her expectations of a confrontational and unhelpful officer smashed to pieces.

“Is there any chance we could look at any items your people recovered from the scenes?” El cut in, her mind singularly focused on the box from the photo.

“Absolutely, right this way.” Sargent Watson gestured for them to follow as she turned and walked back through the door she had used to enter.

The trio ascended to the 3rd floor, approaching a heavy door with a magnetic lock holding it shut. Watson quickly inputted a short code into the keypad mounted next to the doorframe, a gentle thud signifying the lock releasing.

“I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but please don't touch anything that I don't put on the table. There is evidence in this room from more than one case.” Watson walked passed the aforementioned table and down the corridor of boxes and bookshelves, returning with 2 large boxes stacked atop each other 

Placing them on the table, the Sargent opened each box and began laying out their contents.

“This is everything we've collected from each explosion.” Sargent Watson stepped back, allowing Lucy and El to begin rummaging through the plastic bags.

“Your people searched each explosion site fairly thoroughly, did anyone else see anything?” Lucy asked as she carefully sifted through the plastic bags of evidence.

“I’m afraid not. No witnesses to any of the explosions, no parts of a bomb at any of the sites. If there were some sort of device involved, it was probably built elsewhere.” A glum look fell across Watson’s face.

“I don't think there was any kind of device used.” El pulled a bag from the pile, containing the small metal box from the photograph. “You see this symbol?” She pointed to a rune stamped into the tarnished case. “It loosely translates to ‘Magic’ or ‘Power.’ “ El opened the bag, pulling the box from inside.

“You're not supposed to..” Watson began, stopping as El passed it around in her hands, wiping black ash from its surface.

“These smaller ones are a binding spell, meant to stop whatever was inside from mixing with the magic outside.” El cracked the box open as she continued talking. “Alchemists put the same runes on containers of certain volatile ingredients to stop them from atomising everything around them.” She sniffed the open box before running a finger along it's interior.

“So you think whatever was in that box is what caused the explosion?” Watson questioned, digging through the other bags of evidence as she looked for similar containers.

“It certainly didn't help prevent it.” The tip of El's index finger was lightly coated in an off white powder with a gentle green hue. She called on a small amount of magic, her eyes taking a slight purple glow as the powder began to crackle and spark before igniting at the tip of her finger.

“What is it?” Watson paused as she watched a trail of smoke rise from the now extinguished flame.

“Maget Powder.” El responded with an uncomfortable certainty.

“And that is?..” Watson squinted slightly, waiting for any elaboration.

“An alchemical compound.” Lucy interjected. “It forms the base of most potions.”

“And you think it was used to cause the explosions?” Watson replied.

“Not intentionally.” El's voice came once again from behind the small stack of bags and boxes. “In Alnia it was sometimes used as a drug. It gives the user a feeling of euphoria and a big, albeit brief, shot of magical energy.”

“So people have been snorting this stuff?” Watson’s voice carried bothe confusion and concern.

“Or smoking, eating, or drinking it. A little is fine, but too much can give you more magical energy than your body can deal with.” El continued to study the items on the table.

“And then you explode.” Watson said, drawing the best conclusion she could.

“In extreme cases, yes.” El placed another bag next to the small metal box.

“In less extreme cases?” Watson remained fixed on the conversation as her phone pinged with a text message.

“You could loose a limb, have a stroke or seizure, a brain aneurism, heart attack. We are taught to restrain ourselves when we cast spells in case they overwhelm us, there's no end to the bad things that can happen.” Lucy spoke in a calm but sullen tone, a memory of pain flashing through her right arm.

“Wonderful.” Watson’s voice was dark with worry as she took in the information. Remembering her phone, she pulled it from her pocket and checked the text she had received. “Oh dear God.”

“What's wrong?” Lucy asked.

“There has been another explosion, this time in an underground parking structure.” Watson began packing away the evidence into its boxes. “You two care to join me?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5:

Lost Time

Caleb jerked awake, the blaring sound of his ringtone rattling around his skull. Groggily he lifted his phone, opening his eyes just enough to see the screen. From the bright glow of the device two things were clear. It was 12 o'clock, and Mrs. Keal was calling.

“London Kabab and Crematorium, you kill it, we grill it. How can I help you?” Caleb looked up at the open sky above the rooftop he had awoken on, empty bottles of beer scattered around him.

“Mr. Trask. I was just wondering when we should be expecting you. Your class starts in 5 minutes.” The Voice on the other end of the line was irritated, but measured.

“Ample time. I'll be there in 2.” Caleb hung up, dragging himself to his feet and walking to the edge of the roof. It was a very long way down. 

Mrs. Keal stood by the door to the school, tapping her foot impatiently as she watched a distant smudge in the sky grow closer and more distinctive. With a loud crash, Caleb landed just and slid to a stop few feet away from her.

“That wasn't 2 minutes.” Mrs. Keal said as she stared down the disheveled mess of blond and brown hair in front of her.

“Sorry about that, if I teleported I would have puked.” Caleb rubbed his eyes as he answered.

“I wasn't aware you could get sick.” Mrs. Keal pushed the door open, beckoning him inside.

“Ah, I can't get ill. Very important distinction. I, like everyone else can be violently sick after a night of drinking with the voice in my head.” Caleb dragged himself inside, slowly moving down the corridor.

“Most people with voices in their head would be considered sick anyway.” Keal responded.

“Touché.” Caleb slunk off to his classroom.

The door swung open far more gently than the first time Caleb had come to class. Nonetheless a hush fell over the room as he entered.

“Hello, all.” Caleb spoke in a clear but gentle voice.

“Hello.” The class answered in an almost practiced unison, causing Caleb to wince.

“Can anyone remind me where we were yesterday?” Before Caleb could finish his sentence a hand shot up, attached to the same tight ponytail that had been part of the previous day's questioning group.

“You said we would be doing theory work today.” She spoke before Caleb had even prompted her.

“Ah yes.” Caleb dropped into the chair behind his desk, lighting a cigarette as he dug through one of it's draws. “And what's your name again?”

“Sophie, sir.” They young woman smiled down at him from her seat.

“Can you define ‘combative magic’ for me, Sophie?” Caleb pulled out what appeared to be an empty conical flask of questionable cleanliness. With a shrug he dropped it on the table and covered the opening with his hand, the glass frosting slightly as it filled with water.

“Magic used to cause injury or pain.” Sophie said with a degree of certainty.

“Swing and a miss I'm afraid.” Caleb knocked back the ice cold water, quickly refilling it as he drew from his cigarette. “Combative magic is any and all magic, if applied in the correct way. An illusion that causes blindness so that you have time to land a strike IS combative magic, even if the spell itself does no damage.” The sound of pencil on paper filled the room as the class made note of what he had said.

“Does that mean you're going to teach us all kinds of magic?” Came the familiar deep drawl of the goliath boy.

“Yes and no. There is no single school of magic we will be focusing on, but my main goal is to teach you to get creative with your casting. None of you have the capacity for giant devastating spells at the moment, but that doesn't mean you can't handle an opponent who is stronger than you.” Caleb finished another glass of water, the flask looking worryingly cleaner as he refilled it once again. “Take what I'm doing here for example. Creating water, a traditionally non combat spell, followed by the same kind of ice magic a few of you used on the target range yesterday.” The glass beaker filled, the frost thicker than before.

“Caleb... are you casting two spells at once?” The Voice of the halfling woman reached out from the front row.

“Well spotted, miss...” Caleb paused as he searched for a name.

“Minerva is fine.” She offered in assistance.

“Thank you, Minerva. The ability to split your focus and cast multiple spells at a time is critical to creative casting. It's what turns filling an opponent's lungs with water into filling them with a block of ice.” Caleb noticed the class collectively recoil at the idea.

The lecture continued on for over an hour. Despite his initial reservations about teaching to a group, they all seemed unfounded as he found his flow, each statement and declaration fueling questions and curiosity from his students. The class only stopped as the small shadow of Mrs. Keal loomed in the doorway.

“I'm terribly sorry for interrupting, but I believe everyone has other classes to attend as well.” She said, the faintest hint of a smile on her face.

“Oh.” Caleb checked his watch. “Alright you lot, bugger off. Tomorrow we will cover incantations and how to shorten them.” The class filled with sounds of books being stuffed into bags as the students quickly began to file out past the lingering Mrs. Keal.

Both Caleb and Keal waited, watching as each student funneled out of the door before speaking again.

“I must say.” Keal broke the silence. “I didn't expect you to take to this so well.”

“Are you questioning my magical ability, or the fact that I am a bastion of charisma?” Caleb leaned back, putting both feet on his desk as he lit another cigarette.

“I'm simply pointing out that you once categorically refused to teach, I remember Luther fighting to make you take an apprentice.” A more noticeable smile crossed her lips.

“Well that was then. I’ve been making an effort to change recently and this seems like a good way to do that.” Caleb breathed out a cloud of smoke with a sigh. 

“I’m inclined to agree with you there. They all seem to like you.” Keal grabbed the pack from Caleb’s desk, pulling a cigarette of her own from the flimsy cardboard box and lighting it.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to smoke in here.” Caleb smirked, laughing to himself as he took another drag.

“It's fine, I know the headteacher.” Keal replied.

¤                                                                                 ¤

Lucy and El double checked their weapons as Sargent Watson rolled to a stop outside the entrance to the parking area of The Cube, a gaudy and angular building in the heart of the city. Camera flashes blared as the trio stepped out of the car, news crews held back by caution tape and a handful of constables. Lucy approached the Sargent, speaking up slightly over the crowd as she moved closer.

“Was anybody hurt?” She was careful to be heard by the Sargent without the lingering media picking up on their conversation.

“Luckily, no.” the Sargent answered, leading the two underground and away from prying eyes. “Doesn’t seem to have done much structural damage either, but still be careful. If you think the building is becoming unstable then just run for the exit.”

“what are they doing?” El asked, pointing to a congregation of constables who stood at the precipice of the blackened and charred back quarter of the first floor, none daring to step closer than they had already.

“Oi!” Shouted Sargent Watson as they approached. “What are you all just standing around for?”

“It's the floor Sargent.” Answered the nervous voice of one of the constables. “It's too hot, melted clean through the firefighters gear.”

“What the hell?” The Sargent moved closer, the intense heat of the scorched concrete forcing her to a stop next to the group.

“Was it like this at any of the other explosion sites?” Lucy asked, also getting as close as she could manage.

“No, not even close to this kind of heat.” The Sargent replied, examining the almost liquid floor.

“Probably a Pyromancer” everyone looked to the source of the voice, seeing El casually sauntering across the tarmac, her boots and socks placed neatly at the edge of the burned area as her skin made a light sizzling sound.

The group watched in both horror and amazement as she casually strolled past the flipped and burning cars which had almost formed a semicircle around the epicentre. Finally she came to a stop, snapping on a pair of gloves and squatting down next to the charred remains that were once the cause of the destruction.

“What the hell are you doing?!” The Sargent finally managed to scream out.

“Don't worry about her.” Lucy cut in. “I've seen her father get struck by repeated bolts of lightning, I'm sure she'll be fine.”

“But...” Watson stopped herself. Any possible DNA evidence was almost certainly atomised by now.

“Is there any camera footage? Do we know where our...” Lucy struggled to find an appropriate word. “Bomber? Came from?”

“Yes Miss.” In lieu of a rank the constable settled for the most polite option. “But the footage is still being processed, nobody has had a chance to go through it all.”

“Where?” Lucy asked.

“The SOCO van outside, they'll be going through all the evidence we have so far.” Sargent Watson answered for the sweating officer.

“Could I help?” Lucy glanced around the parking area. “There were cameras everywhere here, there'll be a lot to go through.”

“Good idea. Stevens, take the agent to the SOCO unit, tell them I sent her.” The order left the Sargent's lips with a practiced authority.

“Yes Sargent, right away.” The officer answered, jumping at the opportunity to leave the sweatbox as he turned and beckoned for Lucy to follow.

El was busily picking out any non-body parts from the stinking, melted heap that was once a man. Each one received a quick blast of ice magic, cooling it enough to be placed in a plastic bag without melting right through it. It wasn't much; the remains of a phone, a few charred scraps of a coarse fabric, a watch, glasses and finally a small metal box, the lid hanging loosely by a single hinge. With a sigh El wiped a bead of sweat from her brow as she stood, beginning to head back towards the waiting Sargent.

“I think that's all we will get for now.” She called out, holding the evidence bags high as she approached. “Sorry if some of it still has some bits of person on it.” One of the officers wretched at her words, sprinting for the exit before they threw up.

“Anything we can use?” Watson asked as Lucy finally reached the cooler part of the floor, slipping her socks and boots back on.

“Not much, but that was definitely a Pyromancer.” El said with absolute certainty. “Still some small patches of blue flame near the corpse.”

“Meaning?” Asked Watson, holding her breath as the smell of melted person clung to the approaching El.

“The fire itself was magical. If the flames were a side effect then they would be a normal colour. Seems pretty certain he took too much and burned too hot.” El handed off the bags of evidence.

“Is there anything you can do about the heat? We might find more when we can remove the corpse.” Watson prayed for good news.

“Are there more floors under this?” El asked.

“Two more, yes.” Watson said with a sigh, confident she knew the outcome.

“I wouldn't recommend it then, if I try freezing the floor I'll probably just split the concrete. Best to wait for it to cool on its own.” El said as she brushed soot from her coat.

“Outstanding.” Watson said.

“Where did Lucy go?” El looked around as if checking for a pet hamster that had gone suspiciously quiet.

“I'll show you.” Watson turned on her heel.

¤                                                                                 ¤

Caleb had found a quiet and shaded spot on the academy courtyard. He had been there for over an hour, headphones blaring as smoke drifted up between the leaves of the tree that shaded him. He was having a lovely time, blissfully unaware of the figures that approached him. As they came to a stop just a few feet from him, the clatter of steel plates made its way through the impenetrable rhythms of Dolly Parton that had filled his ears. With a small smirk he opened his eyes, looking up at them.

“Good afternoon Lotarg. Good afternoon faceless cannon fodder.” Caleb smiled up at the already agitated Commander Lotarg, a face he hadn't seen since it had stabbed him in the Senora Desert. “Can I help you with something? Directions to a cafe, or the nearest oppressable minority?”

“Silence.” Lotarg scowled down at Caleb, his voice dripping a foul mix of arrogance and indignation. “It is time for you to leave.”

“You and your backup dancers going to make me? That didn't go well for you last time.” Caleb held his smug grin as he lit another cigarette.

“By order of the Queen. Leave now.” Lotarg's eye twitched as he gripped the handle of his sword.

“Okay, good try but I have a few notes. First of all, she isn't a Queen anymore. Second of all, threats work better when your soldiers aren't trembling so badly it sounds like someone is washing all the pots and pans at once.” Caleb looked around at the soldiers and then to the gathering crowd, his focus broken as a familiar sword was rammed through his chest and into the ground.

“Okay then.” Caleb sat up right, the Commander's sword remaining fixed into a tree root as it was pulled deeper into Caleb's body. “Did that make you feel better at least?” The group of soldiers took a step back, attempting not to show fear as Caleb snapped the handle off of the sword with a worrying ease and stood.

“Only a creature as foul as you could withstand being stabbed in the heart.” Lotarg gave a satisfied smile as Caleb stood, still about a foot shorter than himself.

“Or your aim is getting worse in your old age.” Caleb stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “Seeing as there are kids around, I'll offer you a deal. Apologise and then run away, I won't even try to stop you. OR I can drown you in that fountain, then go to the pub.” Caleb stood defiantly in front of the Commander, dozens of students watching on in anticipation.

Suddenly Lotarg reached out, gripping an unimpressed Caleb by the throat. He was considerably stronger than before. Caleb knew why. He could feel Nisa's magic strengthening and fortifying the Commander's. It wouldn't make a difference. Slowly Caleb reached his hand up, resting it on Lotarg's forearm.

“I did warn you.” Caleb’s smug expression held as he squeezed his hand, a sickening crack coming from the bone in the Commander's forearm.

Lotarg winced in pain, his eyes widening and his grip falling limp as he attempted to back away, only getting as far as Caleb’s vice grip would allow. Caleb theatrically pulled his right hand back in a fist, stepping in and throwing a punch that launched Lotarg back into his soldiers, denting his armour and knocking the wind out of him.

“You know, thinking about it I don't think I ever liked you.” Caleb took slow and casual steps towards the men.

“Y~you think...your opinion matters to me?” Lotarg struggled to get the words out, his breath painful and laboured.

“Fair enough. But even still.” Caleb kicked him in the gut, the blow causing the Commander to hack up blood and bile. “Arrogant.” Another kick landed, knocking most of the teeth from the veteran's mouth. “Self-righteous.” Caleb loomed over the bleeding Commander, squatting down to look him in the eye. “And ALWAYS too weak to back any of it up.” Caleb grabbed Lotarg by his greying hair, dragging him toward the fountain at the centre of the courtyard and throwing him against its side with a loud crash. “How many men do you think died because of your inability to lead?”

The crowd watched on as Lotarg tried to answer, only managing to cough up more blood and teeth.

“WHAT A GLORIOUS SIGHT.” The Voice exclaimed, on the edge of its metaphorical seat.

“And the worst part is you did it all willingly. At least I have the excuse of mind control for all the terrible things I did, you committed atrocities in the hopes of getting a crumb of pussy.” Caleb sat on the edge of the fountain next to where the Commander was laying, his soldiers with swords drawn, looking between each other and Caleb as they weighed how much they valued their lives. Finally Lotarg was able to get out a single decipherable word.

“Kolstahg.” He said, a confusingly triumphant look on his face as he said it. Caleb’s expression turned from smug to cold as he gazed down at his enemy.

“Maybe I'll have to pay your Queen a visit. Teach her about this new world order, make sure it sinks in that she is not in charge anymore.” Caleb turned his gaze up to one of the academy's windows, catching a glimpse of Nisa for just a moment before she retreated out of sight. Lotarg seized the moment of distraction, summoning all of his strength and lunging at Caleb, stopping suddenly as Caleb gripped his face, his eyes still fixed on the window and forced the Commander's head under the water of the fountain.

“YES, WHAT A WONDERFUL DAY!” The voice was practically singing as Lotarg thrashed and fought, desperately trying to pull himself up to take a breath. It was no use. Caleb’s grip remained locked, not allowing the Commander a moment of reprieve as the air left his lungs. The water in the fountain bubbled and turned a light red hue as Lotarg's writhing turned to twitching and eventually stillness.

The courtyard was silent. Over a hundred students watched on, taking in the fact one of their teachers had just drowned a man in water slightly less than a foot deep. With a sigh Caleb stood, gripping the lifeless body of Lotarg by the scruff of his neck and pulling him from the water only to drop him into the dirt at his feet. Gently Caleb kneeled beside him, his eyes glowing purple as he raised a hand. Suddenly he slapped the corpse across the face and with a flurry of activity it shook, coughing up red water as Lotarg frantically drew breath.

Caleb stepped over the commander, lighting a cigarette as he stepped towards the other soldiers.

“Take him. Leave. Or you all become a part of the water feature.” Caleb took a deep drag as he stared down the knights. After a moment of motionlessness the first soldier took a tentative step forward, quickly followed by the others as they lifted the Commander up and vanished in a flash of light. Caleb looked around at the large crowd that had gathered, all eyes fixed on him. “None of you gave classes to go to?” Snapping back to focus, the crowd of now almost 100 students collectively dispersed.

¤                                                                                 ¤

Nisandra hid in an empty classroom. She knew that speaking to Lotarg was a bad idea, but what other option did she have? Thoughts raced through her head as cold sweat beaded and ran down the back of her neck. Her mind found clarity with the sound of heavy boots in the hallway, steadily getting closer. In a panic she jumped to her feet, about to run as the door swung open with enough force to rip it from its hinges, sending it crashing into the first row of desks. Caleb stepped inside.

Nisandra tried to teleport herself away but to no avail, her magic stuttered and fizzled in the air, blocked by Caleb’s own. As his cold eyes burned into her skull he spoke.

“Of all the unbelievably stupid things you've done. I believe that tops the list.” He stared unblinking as she fumbled for words.

“I didn't tell him to attack you, I just asked him to speak to you.” She managed, heart pounding in her ears.

“Of course Nisa, why else would you give him a generous shot of your magic to work with?” Caleb stepped closer, slowly driving his ex wife further back into the room. Nisandra tried to speak but was cut off before any sound could come out. “Lotarg wouldn't have had a chance on his best day, nor would you as a matter of fact. Why did you think that would work?”

“I...I just wanted you gone.” Nisa's eyes fell to the floor as the words touched the air.

“Oh, and assassination is still just your go to? Makes sense, you never were good at diplomacy.” Caleb lit a cigarette. “Do you know why you're not Queen anymore?” He asked as he leaned on the desk.

“Because I gave it up.” Nisa said quickly.

“Because I made it so. I negotiated asylum for our people after you cocked it up, and I am the one who added the stipulation that you step down.” Caleb watched her eyes widen at the realisation.

“You...” She tried to speak but was cut off again.

“Shut up, I didn't tell you to speak.” Caleb spat the words at her, blowing smoke in her direction. “You continue to draw breath because I am merciful enough to allow it. I am also a fickle cunt.” Caleb brushed his coat to the side, his handgun proudly displayed. “If I see Lotarg, or any other former Queen's guard outside of New Alnia I will execute you in the street like a dog. Do you understand?” Silence fell between the two as Nisa trembled. “WE SAID, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” Caleb and The Voice spoke together, the two tonal sound shaking the room as purple sparked in his eyes. It was the first time in a long time that he had raised his voice.

“Y~yes... I understand.” Nisa's voice was quiet and shy, like the whimper of a beloved family pet that had been kicked by a drunk father.

“Sensational.” Caleb turned and marched out of the room, passing another group of students who had stopped for a spot of rubbernecking.

Nisandra dropped to the ground, her back pressed into the corner of the room and she hugged he knees. Her face was pale and her breath was shaking. Before coming to this world she hadn't felt fear in thousands of years, having it reappearing so violently was beginning to take a toll on her. For the first time since she had risen to power, the possibility of death hung over her like an anvil, an ever present threat with Caleb so close. Her mind fell back into chaos as a tear ran down her cheek, every part of her being screaming for a return to the way things had been before. As students looked in through where the door should be to check on her, Nisa raised a trembling hand and vanished in a flash of light.