《Grey Mage》


 Chapter 1: Dark Mage

    Steven Cairn yawned as he rose from his large, comfortable double bed and turned on the tv. Soon, te noise of a football match filled the bedroom and adjacent bathroom. He stepped into the shower, which was pleasingly hot. Thousands of spells and rituals at his fingertips, and yet, nothing woke him up like an early shower did.


    After towelling himself off he walked back into the bedchamber, where his bed had already been made and three different suits were waiting for his inspection. Steven liked things in a particular way and his staff knew that. His eyes slid over the three brands, his favourites, before settling on the one that pleased him the most.


    Once he was dressed, the black of the suit blending with the deep emerald green of his shirt and silver tie he felt suitably dressed for breakfast. He turned off the tv and stepped into the softly carpeted hallway. When he entered the dining hall, he saw a door close at the far end of the room. His brow set into a furrow as he looked at his watch. The furrow disappeared, he had simply been early, fifteen odd seconds or so.


    He took the seat at the head of the table, where a cup of steaming, hot coffee, three different papers and a single cigarette were waiting for him. A small flame flickered into existence as he picked up the cigarette and lit it. He then turned his attention to the three papers. First, he checked the economic section of the regular paper. His stock had gone down again. No matter, he had other sources of revenue. He briefly glanced over the regular news, but found little of interest there. There had been a murder, which he was sure had been the result of magic, mostly because the choking hex had been cast by an amateur.


    He picked up the second paper, which reported on international sports, and took a sip of coffee. By the time the cup was empty he had read anything of worth, so he turned to the last paper. This one was very different from the others, even though it looked like any normal paper. ¡°Revelare.¡± He said. A single pure note echoed through the large dining hall. Instantly the paper changed from the regular news to something else entirely.


    THE DAILY INQUIRER


    The head of the paper read, and right below that:


    APPRENTICES ON TRIAL FOR MURDER


    Steven head little time for the four apprentices who had succeeded in killing their master. ¡°Stupid.¡± He muttered. This was why he didn¡¯t have an apprentice. Modern fiction had warped the perception of what magic was supposed to be. Apprentices these days thought they were somehow obliged to usurp their master¡¯s position or fight against evil wizards or other nonsense like that.


    COUNCIL RECONSIDERS COMMUNAL SCHOOLING


    Schools for wizards, hah, if things were so easy, they would have taken over England centuries ago. No, magic was too complex and personal to be taught in class. His eyes scanned the other articles. Briefly his lips curled into a smile when he saw that the import tax on dragon scales had been abolished. Winterhand had come through then. He made a quick phone call to his contact in Bulgaria, who was delighted and promised to start shipping as soon as feasibly possible.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    There was a knock on the door. Steven¡¯s head swirled towards the door at the far end of the hall. ¡°Enter.¡± He said quietly. The door was opened by a beautiful woman dressed in the livery of Cairn manner. ¡°What is it?¡± He asked curtly. The servant drew in a shaky breath, she was clearly new and not used to being in his presence yet.


    ¡°A letter from your sister has arrived, sir.¡± She showed him the letter.


    ¡°My sister?¡± Steven asked. For a second, he seemed confused, then his face became a mask again.


    ¡°Bring it to me.¡± The servant¡¯s hands were shaking as she handed him the letter. He instantly recognized his sister¡¯s neat handwriting. Their governess had compared their handwriting frequently, his falling short most of the time. ¡°Dismissed.¡± He said in almost dreamlike whisper. He didn¡¯t even notice when the servant left, his attention focused completely on the letter.


    Dear brother,


    I know we haven¡¯t spoken since I moved to the States, but this is a matter of urgency. My daughter, Serena seems to have inherited the talent of our father.


    Steven¡¯s eyebrows shot up. Three generations with the talent, that was quite a feat. Magic turned most men infertile and the talent wasn¡¯t necessarily blood related. Even an old magical family like the Cairns had had generations without mages.


    Unlike him, she doesn¡¯t tinker with machines in the garage or spends most of her time composing, like you. No, she¡¯s quite different. Of course, you will find out for yourself. By the time this letter reaches you she will already be on her way to you.


    Hold up, what was that? He read and reread the line. ¡°What does she mean she is already on her way to me?¡±


    I hope that you will be able to teach her how to practice safely and responsibly. I know we didn¡¯t part on the best of terms, but I¡¯m desperate.


    My regards,


    Your older sister.


    The alarm went off. There was an intruder in the mansion. Calmly he folded the letter and put it back in its envelope. ¡°If that is my niece, I will jinx you.¡± He said, looking at the letter pointedly. There was a polite knock at the door.


    ¡°Enter.¡± He said absentmindedly.


    The door opened and tree members of staff appeared. Two of them were carrying pistols, their eyes scanning the dining hall. The third, a butler was carrying a cushion, which he brought to Steven. ¡°Sir, I made a selection for you.¡±


    Steven nodded appreciatively at the aging butler. ¡°Thank you, mister Stone, a perfect selection as always. The intruder might be a relative of mine, no one is authorized to engage. Inform the staff.¡± The butler nodded.


    ¡°I will make sure no one lays a finger on them, sir.¡± He assured Steven.


    He looked at the three pieces of wood the butler had picked. To the untrained eye they all looked identical, but that wasn¡¯t the case at all. He made his choice and dismissed the personnel. He gave the wand a sweep and the first notes echoed through the dining hall. Low menacing tones gathered around him as he left the dining hall.


    As he walked towards the glaring magical presence in the reception hall the shadows around him deepened and seemed to stick to him. The music became louder, sounding like approaching thunder. As the music swelled, so did his anger. Barely a note, delivered too late, his sister had lost her manners since she left. The magical presence in the reception hall increased. ¡°Casting spells in my home without permission.¡± He hissed. More magic gathered towards him and the music became louder and more aggressive. His hands were a blur as he weaved protective spells around him, all sound lost in the music.


    At last he reached the reception hall.

 Chapter 2: An Unforeseen Arrival

    Steven spotted her immediately, standing in the middle of the reception hall, gaping at the decorations. An unnatural amount of light shone through the windows, giving a better view of the d¨¦cor. As he entered her head snapped towards him and she opened her mouth to say something. Steven was however quicker. Three clarion calls echoed through the mansion as he fired three curses at her in short succession.


    Already he was weaving counter spells, the music now hurried and sounding vicious. A lot could and had been said about Dark Mage Cairn, both behind his back as well as to his face. None however, had ever had the gall to call him weak. His power was recognized and feared by light and dark mages alike. If this intruder was indeed his niece, something that remained to be seen, it was about time she learned how to behave in a fellow mage¡¯s home.


    There turned out to be no need for counter spells. The three curses had found their mark. He dropped the counter spells, letting the magic unravel as the music became quiet. ¡°Currently you are bound, silenced and blinded.¡± He said softly as he walked towards the younger woman. She was in her late teens, or possibly early twenties, he had never been good with ages. She looked just like his sister had when she was younger. Big bright eyes, that were currently milky white. Average height. Red hair, shaven at the side, very much unlike what his sister had preferred at that age. Pierced ears, multiple rings, all unenchanted.


    ¡°Your defences are pathetic; your mother should have provided you with shield charms. She at least remembered what our father told us about rings.¡± He calmly said. ¡°Better in your ears than on your fingers.¡± He looked around her, not a single protection charm or even a luck enchantment. ¡°I will be contacting your mother, I am disappointed. Now, close your eyes.¡±


    The girl followed his orders at least, but that might be because she was terrified. Her breathing was short and he could almost smell her terror. A soft hopeful melody began to play as he cast different restoration spells. In short order her sight returned and she could move her lips again, she remained bound to her spot. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak Steven lifted a finger. ¡°If the next sentence out of your mouth contains profanity, I will have you locked up.¡±


    Where he was going to lock her in was very much the question, unlike some he didn¡¯t have holding cells in his mansion. His magic didn¡¯t require human sacrifice and for people as well connected as he obtaining the right quantities of quality human blood didn¡¯t require bleeding some poor soul in a dungeon. Contrary to most fiction, mages did move with the times. A quick phone call to the blood bank and a sizable donation usually sufficed.


    ¡°Your mother sent you to me to learn about the talent, did she not?¡± He asked softly.


    The girl swallowed, then nodded. ¡°Yes, she did, she never explained to me fully what that meant. Or anything for that matter.¡± Bitterness, anger, clearly the girl was shit at hiding her emotions.


    ¡°Lesson number one.¡± He barked, making the girl flinch. ¡°Never, ever, start casting in another mage¡¯s house, unless you are absolutely sure you can kill said mage.¡± He continued in a softer tone. ¡°Follow me to the drawing room, we will have tea and I will give you time to ask questions.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Five minutes later they were sitting in awkward silence, having tea, which had been brought to them, by mister Stone, who had given the girl a warm smile. ¡°Something on your mind mister Stone?¡± Steven asked a bit annoyed.


    ¡°Forgive me sir, the young lady reminds me of your sister, I was overtaken by nostalgia.¡± Steven¡¯s lips curled into a smile.


    ¡°I imagine you must sometimes miss how lively things could get. My sister,¡± he elaborated, ¡°was a trouble maker. Whenever our parents left the house she would invite as many people as she could and throw large parties. Mother didn¡¯t appreciate those at all, did she Stone?¡±


    The butler nodded, amusement in his eyes. ¡°I can still see mistress Irene getting scolded, trying to hide her hangover.¡±


    Steven nodded, grinning. ¡°Or when father caught her in bed with Wilhelm. His laboratory wasn¡¯t safe to enter for a month after that. Of course, since she left, the parties here have been lively in another manner entirely.¡± The smile slid off mister Stone¡¯s face, and it settled into a polite mask.


    ¡°Where you thinking of hosting another one, sir?¡± Steven gave his niece a once over. ¡°Perhaps, once she is ready.¡± He said.


    ¡°Can the two of you perhaps stop talking as if I¡¯m not in the room?¡± His niece suddenly asked angrily. Mister Stone hurried to stand up straight as Steven leaned back into his chair.


    ¡°Forgive me niece, I barely had any forewarning of your coming and I¡¯m prone to solitude. Mister Stone, could you perhaps prepare the ballroom for use? Make sure the mirrors are spotless.¡± The butler nodded and left them to their tea.


    ¡°So, niece, at long last we meet, did your mother ever tell you that you had an uncle in the old country?¡±


    Serena shook her head. ¡°Mother never talked about home or magic or anything to do with her old life. I always thought she was trying to put all that behind her.¡± Steven let out a bark of harsh laughter that made Serena jump.


    ¡°You could say that.¡± He softly said a second later, no mirth in his eyes. ¡°She didn¡¯t even come to your grandparents¡¯ funerals. Father¡¯s funeral I expected, they never got on well together, but surely, I thought, she would come to bury mother. Less emotional and sentimental than I thought.¡± Steven said with approval.


    ¡°And yet.¡± He said, staring at Serena with a cold, calculating gaze. ¡°And yet, she sent you to me.¡± He leaned forwards. ¡°I wonder why that is. The last time we spoke harsh words were said and when she didn¡¯t respond to my letters or answered my calls, I thought her position was clear.¡± He shook his head, his lips curled into a sardonic smile. ¡°People keep surprising you.¡±


    Serena cleared her throat. ¡°So, uhm, we¡¯re mages, you and I, and mum is¡­.¡± Steven tilted his head studying his niece, hope? No. Desire? Maybe.


    ¡°Completely and utterly normal.¡± He finished her sentence.


    ¡°And if I had children, they would be mages as well?¡± Serena half said, half asked.


    ¡°Perhaps, but statistically it is more likely you either won¡¯t have children or they will be normal, like your mother. Magical lineages aren¡¯t as clear cut as most people like to make them out. The talent often skips generations and a lot of mages lose their fertility once they start practicing.¡± Different emotions flashed over his niece¡¯s face, clearly readable for all to see. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to work on that.¡± He muttered.


    ¡°Work on what?¡± She suddenly said angrily.


    ¡°Might use a mask for a while, even though it is silly.¡± He added. The cup in Serena¡¯s hand was shaking.


    ¡°Now you listen here, uncle, so far, you¡¯ve attacked me, talked about numerous things without any context whatsoever and now you¡¯re making decisions for me, without explaining a thing. I¡¯m not going to move an inch until you tell me what in the bloody hell is going on!¡± Her eyebrows were set in an angry furrow.


    ¡°Just like your mother.¡± He said with a smile, that for once reached his eyes.

 Chapter 3: Apprentice Serena

    Her uncle was infuriating. Serena had known from the first few seconds she had spoken with him. Infuriating and terrifying. Her eyes were fixed on him as they went for their second round of tea. Thin, pale, with well-kept black hair and an equally well-trimmed beard. He was meticulous in his appearance, presenting an image of a man who was in control of everything. He also smelled of smoke, had large variety of sneers and snickers, most of which appeared when he spoke of her mother, and he was incredibly rude and invasive.


    Thankfully she had been able to get some answers from him. First of all, her mother hadn¡¯t faked her surprise and horror upon learning of Serena¡¯s powers. Chances were apparently one in a million, or something (she hadn¡¯t listened to the actual number), that three generations of mages were born in the same family. She didn¡¯t fully appreciate that fact until her uncle told her that there were less than a thousand mages in the UK, none of whom had studied in a magical castle.


    There didn¡¯t seem to be any kind of real formal teaching method at all. Many mages had figured out how their magic worked themselves. ¡°The major benefit of an apprenticeship is that, generally, you are provided a safe place to study and practice magic, without interference and less danger. And then there is of course mage society, which is the worst kind of snake pit if you don¡¯t have a master to guide you through it.¡± He said in a chipper voice.


    ¡°Ehm yes, about that,¡± Serena said. ¡°I¡¯m to return to the States once I¡¯m done training with you. I don¡¯t need to enter mage society.¡± The words came out quickly, as if she couldn¡¯t wait to have said them.


    ¡°No.¡± Her uncle said, his voice as cold as a midwinter morning. ¡°You will enter mage society to meet other apprentices. Your apprenticeship with me won¡¯t end until I deem you a master and then we will have a conversation about returning to the States or staying here and becoming my heir.¡±


    Serena was about to angrily reply when the meaning of his last words hit her. ¡°Excuse me, what?¡± She said. ¡°Your heir? What do you mean your heir? Are you dying or something?¡± The questions sounded confused and angry. Her uncle¡¯s lips curled into a smile, which was more a sneer than a smile.


    ¡°My heir, the person who will inherit my estate, my fortune, my magic, everything. I can¡¯t have kids and you are both a mage and my own blood, which makes you the perfect candidate. Somebody needs to manage it and, since I¡¯m not studying immortality, I will need a successor someday.¡±


    Serena was speechless. They had just met and he had already decided to give her everything that owned. Was this man insane? He smiled at her with a serene smugness that infuriated her again. ¡°Mum won¡¯t be happy to hear this.¡± She said guardedly.


    ¡°I will deal with your mother.¡± He promised, sounding so grim that it scared Serena a little. ¡°You¡¯re not going to do anything to her, will you?¡± He gave her a disdained look.


    ¡°Why on earth would I hurt my own family?¡± He asked incredulously.


    In her defence he had cursed her when she entered his house. ¡°Now then, do you want to learn magic from me or don¡¯t you?¡± He asked.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°Do I really have choice?¡± She countered.


    ¡°Naturally, I have no interest in an unwilling student. If you don¡¯t want to follow an apprenticeship you can walk out the door right now. I¡¯m not in need of another distraction.¡±


    Once again, she was taken aback by his brisk and rude manner. ¡°So, what will it be?¡± He asked impatiently.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Serena uttered. ¡°Alright yes, yes, I will take the apprenticeship.¡± She stuttered as her uncle¡¯s brows furrowed. His face cracked into a smile.


    ¡°Excellent, I expect to learn a lot from you, I don¡¯t often work with light mages, they tend to go to the other side.¡±


    He stood up, cracked his neck and left the room. Serena sat still for a few moments, until she realised, she was meant to follow. They went through a corridor, ignoring a number of doors, until they entered the reception hall. They took one of the stairs to the first floor. ¡°Servant rooms, west wing first floor, there shouldn¡¯t be any reason to go there.¡± He motioned towards the right hallway. ¡°The east wing is over there. There is a small library there, which will suffice for your coming year of learning. Additionally, there are a number of leisure rooms, which will be free for you to use however you like.


    They went up the single staircase which hung suspended between the first and second floor. The wood was worn, but recently polished, giving the house a very old feeling. Serena smiled as she touched the old railings. Her uncle chuckled. ¡°What you feel is three centuries of mages who let their magic seep into the house.¡± When he turned to look at her there was a genuine smile on his face. He clearly loved the house.


    ¡°Second floor, the west wing is my wing, my personal library, laboratory, bedroom, bathroom and studio are not to be entered, unless I invite you to.¡± His voice was grave. ¡°The east wing contains a number of guest bedrooms with adjacent bathrooms. Within the rooms you will find anything you should need, for refreshments, food or anything, simply ring the bell. Your bags have already been brought upstairs. We will start your lessons tomorrow. We will see each other tonight at dinner. Take the time to settle in and get familiar with the house.¡± Promptly he stopped talking, turned around and walked away, leaving Serena standing alone in the hallway.


    ¡°Hey stop, wait a minute. Are you just going to leave me?¡± Her uncle turned around, a sneer on his face.


    ¡°Do you need me to hold your hand while you unpack?¡± He asked, his eyebrows rising.


    ¡°Ehm no, never mind.¡± Serena said, her face red from shame and anger. ¡°Fucking dick.¡± She muttered as her uncle disappeared from view.


    She took the time to enter every room and look around. All of them were designed to impress, filled with expensive looking furniture, art and state of the art technology. They were also all without any personality whatsoever. So stiff and formal she almost choked. Her room wasn¡¯t much different. Comfortable, but lacking any form of identity, beyond expensive. Her bags had indeed been carried into her room and to her dismay they had been opened. When she looked inside however, nothing was missing, somebody had refolded her laundry however.


    She shook her head, living here was going to take some getting used to. She sighed, sat down in one of the chairs in front of the empty hearth and grabbed her phone. She looked at the bars with fear, this place was about as remote as it got. To get here she had flown, taken several buses, which had been hell with her bags, and ordered a cab for the last couple of miles. Thankfully, she had exchanged dollars for pounds at the airport or she would have had to walk the last leg of the journey. To her surprise, all bars were full. Gratefully she went to her contacts and dialled her mum.


    ¡°Yes, I arrived safely. No, it wasn¡¯t much of a hassle. Yes, he has taken me on. Yes, I think he¡¯s a little scary too. Okay mum, stop talking for a second. We need to talk about the house.¡±


    As mother and daughter spoke in the east wing music came from west wing. A single violin, playing a fast melody, reminding of the thread of mice.

 Chapter 4: Toshiro

    Serena had to admit that the house and the grounds around it were mesmerizing. By far her favourite place however, was a secret garden, which was hidden in what used to be some kind of castle tower. The interior was long gone and the walls were overgrown. The door in contrast was well oiled and opened with ease. It revealed a rich, colourful flower garden, with in its centre a statue of a woman. She closed the door behind her almost reverently. This place wasn¡¯t like any of the other gardens, and there were quite a few.


    It felt private, as if somebody had looked at the large manner and its grounds and had decided that there should be a place just for themselves. Serena didn¡¯t doubt that the place had been some kind of refuge. Slowly she walked towards the statue of the woman. She looked serene, sitting with her eyes closed, a peaceful smile on her face her hands stroking a cat, which looked equally at peace. She sat down on a stone bench, overgrown by ivy, but still fine to sit on, and looked around.


    Hundreds of colourful flowers stared back at her. After a few minutes of the dead quiet she started to get uncomfortable. There should have been more noise here, birds, insects, the wind, but instead there was nothing. Instead, it was quiet as a graveyard. She untangled a pair of earbuds, put them in and turned on some music. As she laid back on the bench, Guns and Roses making up for the lack of sound, she felt the tension flow out of her.


    When she looked at the clock on her phone, she suddenly realized that two hours had passed. With a curse she jumped up and walked towards the door. Something made her stop before wrenching the door open. An odd sensation, like she was being watched. Having seen her fair share of horror movies, she didn¡¯t look, but instead opened the door and started sprinting. When she looked back it was just to see the door close, nothing was coming after her.


    ¡°Fucking magic.¡± She muttered under her breath as she resolved to ask her uncle about the garden, the next time she saw him. She walked around a bit more, entering the house through a different entrance. The kitchen was massive and a bustle of activity. At first, she wasn¡¯t noticed, so she took the time to look around. The kitchen had clearly been part of the house for a long time, it had been renovated so many times that the place had become an odd mix between a traditional kitchen with metal stoves and ovens and a modern one, with microwaves and new looking ovens. It was massive and seemed to include a large wooden dinner table. Going by its simplicity and the people sitting at it, it was probably the servant¡¯s.


    Something told her that she would much rather eat here than with her uncle in the dining hall. Suddenly the bustle in the kitchen seemed to halt. Mister Stone had walked in. ¡°Miss Selena, are you lost?¡± He asked a bit perplexed. She took out the earbuds, as not to be rude. ¡°No, mister Stone, I was simply exploring the grounds.¡± He nodded, but his face seemed to carry traces of disapproval.


    ¡°Not to step in your way, miss, but our cook needs the entirety of the kitchen.¡±


    The cook who had been cutting some kind of fish turned around and smiled. ¡°Nonsense, miss Cairn can stay as long as she likes.¡± He said as he removed the fish¡¯ entrails, the slightest hint of a foreign accent. ¡°I would shake your hand, miss, but as it is, I will refrain.¡± He held up his bloody hands.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°What are you making?¡± She asked curiously.


    ¡°Sashimi, your uncle loves it, picked me right from the restaurant where I used to work.¡± The cook launched into a monologue, telling in great detail how he thrilled he was to work in the Cairn mansion and how he had come to be there. Mister Stone took the opportunity the guide Serena towards the table and make her cup of tea.


    After the cook was done telling his story she beamed at him. ¡°Actual pirates, what an extraordinary tale!¡± She exclaimed. The cook nodded happily, happy to have entertained the new resident of the mansion. Mister Stone however, seemed to have an entirely different opinion of the story, but he kept his counsel to himself. ¡°How many people does my uncle employ, mister Stone.¡± She asked with genuine interest.


    ¡°Apart from Toshiro and myself, your uncle employs three maids, six gardeners and a chauffeur. A dozen people in total, although the number waxes and wanes when he needs different services. Currently he also employs I believe five guards, who patrol the grounds.¡± The butler stiffly said. ¡°I remember when the family employed at least twice that number, but the times change.¡± He said with distaste. ¡°Finding proper staff is a nightmare these days.¡±


    Serena stopped listening as he went off about the increased workload and the difficulty of polishing large amounts of silver. It felt like she had entered an episode of Downton Abbey, only the master of the house was a mage, with a terrifying amount of power. Now that she was thinking about it, a terrifying amount of money as well. It couldn¡¯t be cheap hiring this many people.


    ¡°Mister Stone, heads up, he¡¯s here again.¡± Toshiro suddenly said.


    ¡°Oh God, not again, he never misses and opportunity, does he? Miss Serena, my apologies, but I¡¯m going to have to take care of an interloper.¡± The butler rushed out of the back door, to intercept someone she couldn¡¯t see. Toshiro chuckled.


    ¡°I better start on making some extra, knowing mister Cairn.¡± He tipped his nose knowingly and went to get more fish from the freezer.


    When he came back, he looked surprised to still see Serena sitting there. ¡°You might want to go get changed into something more formal, your uncle will be entertaining a guest tonight.¡±


    Serena shrugged.


    ¡°I look just fine, thank you. Honestly, who still changes for dinner? It isn¡¯t the nineteenth century anymore.¡± Toshiro chuckled.


    ¡°Oh, I think your uncle doesn¡¯t agree, and neither does mister Stone. You should have heard him when mister Cairn hired me.¡± He imitated Stone¡¯s posh accent. ¡°I can¡¯t see, master Cairn, what is wrong with the traditional English kitchen.¡± He smiled as Serena chuckled. ¡°He changed his mind when he had his first bite. He has never asked for English cooking again.¡±


    Serena liked Toshiro. The Japanese chef was upbeat, funny and best of all he seemed to know exactly what was going in the mansion. ¡°I¡¯m here most of the day.¡± He said happily as he demolished some onions into tiny little squares. ¡°I see everybody when they come in here for a break or for a meal. And you know the thing about staff,¡± He leaned towards her. ¡°We all gossip.¡± Warm laughter followed the statement.


    The clock chimed and Toshiro looked up. ¡°Dinner time. You better go, or you will be in the way when the others arrive.¡± She smiled at him, promising to come visit him at a later time and went towards the dining hall. Sure enough, on the way there she met three girls her age, who quickly stopped talking and made curtsies as she passed. It was a bit surreal to be curtsied at, suddenly she felt woefully underdressed.


    She took a deep breath and opened the doors to the dining hall.

 Chapter 5: First Course

    Opening the doors required less effort than she thought, they weren¡¯t heavy at all like she expected, but opened almost soundlessly. Having used more force than necessary she stumbled inside. A fierce blush crept up her cheeks as she looked up and locked eyes with her uncle. For a second, she looked perplexed at him, then she burst out in laughter.


    He was wearing robes, like an actual wizard. It wasn¡¯t that he looked silly in them at all, in fact as he stood up, he looked quite intimidating. It was just that she hadn¡¯t expected him to. So far, nothing about being a mage had had any indication that any of the fiction she had read was true. But now, now there were robes. With difficulty she stopped herself from laughing as her uncle strode towards her.


    ¡°Ahh niece, wonderful of you to join us, I was wondering when you would arrive.¡± The use of the word us didn¡¯t escape her and sure enough, a man stood up from behind a large pair of silver candleholders. He too was wearing robes, but his were a midnight blue. He was perhaps one of the most handsome men Serena had ever seen. Sharp cheekbones, deep, dark brown eyes, olive colour skin, a sharp chin, which was clean shaven and raven black hair, for which several girls she knew would commit murder.


    He walked past her uncle, who in comparison looked paler and thinner, and reached for her hand. His soft lips brushed her fingers. ¡°My name is Aram Winterhand.¡± His voice was deep and a warmth came from it that spoke to her of summers spent in hot countries. ¡°I¡¯m so glad to welcome you to the United Kingdom, miss Cairn.¡± She blushed fiercely. She now was feeling underdressed in her frayed jeans, sneakers and cardigan.


    ¡°Yeah, ehm, same.¡± She stuttered.


    ¡°Aram, can you please refrain from charming my niece?¡± Her uncle¡¯s cold voice interceded. Aram turned around with a smile.


    ¡°Oh, come now Steven, if I were going to cast something in your house, it would be a lot better than a simple charm spell.¡± He turned back to Serena, a bright smile on his face. ¡°And besides, it is rude to put a charm spell on a lady when you first meet her.¡± He gave her a wink. ¡°The second time however¡­¡± He whispered, before swirling around, suitably dramatic due to the robes.


    Her uncle was already seated, pouring three glasses of wine. Serena sat down, still blushing, and looked at the wine. Her uncle, who was observing her from the corners of his eyes turned towards her. ¡°Something the matter?¡± Serena shrugged.


    ¡°I¡¯m not allowed to drink, I¡¯m not twenty-one yet.¡± She muttered.


    ¡°And that has stopped you?¡± Her uncle asked with surprise. The answer was of course, no. It definitely hadn¡¯t, but she wasn¡¯t about to tell her uncle that. Who knew? He might just tell her mum.


    Her uncle clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. ¡°The drinking age is eighteen here, not that your mother would know, I remember her sixteenth birthday rather well. Better I imagine, than your mother herself. Besides, you will need a passing knowledge of different wines, to be able to detect poisons.¡± Aram raised his eyebrows.


    ¡°You are planning to raise her in your traditions then?¡± Winterhand said in a neutral tone.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Naturally.¡± Her uncle laughed humorously. ¡°If I gave her to your apprentice programme, my family would be destitute in a few years.¡± His tone inclined that he was never going to let that happen.


    ¡°About that, there has been talk of raiding your house. The council is getting impatient, they want the blueprints of your father¡¯s charm detectors.¡± Steven didn¡¯t at all seem impressed.


    ¡°Odd that you know what the council is talking about, the last time I recalled you weren¡¯t on it.¡± He said coldly.


    ¡°No,¡± Aram responded, ¡°but Wiggins is and I have some very compromising pictures of him.¡± Her uncle laughed again, this time with bare contempt.


    ¡°His naga obsession?¡± Aram shook his head with amusement.


    ¡°Gorgons this time.¡± Her uncle chuckled.


    ¡°I probably have some black and white pictures of the naga incident. I might just get them out of storage if Wiggins is sitting on the council.¡±


    Suddenly Serena realized that they were talking about committing a serious felony. Whoever Wiggins was, both her uncle and Aram, as she had started calling him in her head, seemed to have no moral qualms whatsoever with blackmailing him. The direct opposite if their amusement was any indication. What kind of place had she been sent to?


    ¡°I¡¯m serious Steven, if you¡¯re not careful, you will one day wake to find a dozen mages on your doorstep.¡± Her uncle¡¯s face contorted, suddenly looking vicious and menacing.


    ¡°And that is where they will remain if they know what is good for them.¡± His voice was soft, but it sent shivers down her spine. ¡°Or do I have to remember you what happened to mages Kirk, Sven and Summers?¡± Aram paled.


    ¡°Summers too? We thought he migrated to Egypt, to study with the embalmers.¡± Her uncle¡¯s face became a cold, emotionless mask.


    ¡°Did he now? Checked in on him, have we? No? Oh well, not a huge loss, he never was the brightest of minds.¡±


    Serena watched with barely concealed horror as her uncle took a sip of his wine. What had happened to Kirk, Sven and Summers? Had there been more like them? Was there some kind of secret burial place where her uncle¡¯s victims were buried? Her hands were shaking, but the two mages didn¡¯t seem to notice, or if they did, they didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°The council can wait another five years. After the date which my father indicated passes, I will happily sell the council the blueprints. They know my price. Fifty million and Stokowski¡¯s only baton.¡± He held up his hands, before Aram could say anything. ¡°I know they have the baton, and they know I¡¯ve wanted it for ages. The price is negotiable, the baton isn¡¯t. If they are patient and negotiate, they can get what they want. Without possible loss of life.¡± Aram sighed.


    ¡°Can you put that in writing?¡±


    Steven reached for a silver bell and rang it twice. The doors were opened and the three maids she had seen earlier entered, carrying three trays. They were followed by mister Stone, who took position beside the door and half said, half shouted, what they were about to eat. Shirataki soup, apparently. As soon as mister Stone was done telling the entire assortment of mushrooms that went in the soup, he hurried to his master¡¯s side who had beckoned him. Her uncle spoke so softly that she was surprised that mister Stone could hear. The butler however nodded and hurried off.


    The two mages quickly got lost in their conversation, they barely paid attention to Serena. Her attention had drifted from the conversation, which seemed to be about some kind of political problem in London, to her food. As she took a spoonful the rich flavours took up all her attention and before long her bowl was empty. She made a mental note to tell Toshiro how much she appreciated his cooking.


    ¡°You will be present too I hope, won¡¯t you Serena?¡± Aram suddenly asked her. She looked up bewildered.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what did you say? I, ehm, wasn¡¯t paying attention.¡± Aram gave her a warm smile. ¡°I was asking whether you were going to the midsummer ball, it is a popular event for people in our circles.¡± Serena wasn¡¯t sure what to answer, so she turned to her uncle.


    ¡°Naturally, we will both attend.¡± He said in a voice that left no room for disagreement. ¡°I assume your mother taught you how to dance?¡±

 Chapter 6: Second Course

    Did her mother teach her how to dance? Fuck no. She strained her memory, only to find that she had never even seen her mum dance. Serena shook her head, when her mother had sent her here, she didn¡¯t say anything about dancing, or balls, or magic at all for that matter. Her uncle sighed and turned towards Aram. ¡°I¡¯m going to have a word with her mother.¡±


    Thankfully at that point, the second course arrived and Serena let herself be distracted by the quality of the food, trying not to listen to the conversation the two men were having. ¡°How did the council wrap up the whole Campbell affair, word hasn¡¯t gotten to my people yet.¡± Aram nodded.


    ¡°The council is playing that one close to the vest, they don¡¯t want it known that a dark mage broke into its vaults and got away with several relics.¡± Her uncle snorted.


    ¡°Which is why every dark mage of note is aware of it.¡± Aram¡¯s lips curled into a smile.


    ¡°Well, Campbell is dead. We caught him trying to leave the country. He resisted; Webb got involved.¡±


    Her uncle whistled. ¡°Yes, indeed, they had to scrape up what was left of him off the pavement.¡± Aram said seriously.


    ¡°It is good for my people to be reminded some times that not all the heavy hitters are on our side.¡± It was Aram¡¯s turn to snort.


    ¡°Side? Your people don¡¯t have a side. You¡¯re a collection of questionable alliances at the best of times. May I remind you that the council kills less of you than you do yourselves.¡±


    Serena, who was both trying to hear and not to hear the conversation at the same time, almost choked in her salmon. Both men looked up, suddenly reminded that she was there. Aram, noticing his mistake, coughed politely as he turned towards her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, your uncle is one of the strongest mages in the United Kingdom, you will be perfectly safe.¡± He gave her an encouraging smile, which did the opposite for Serena, and turned back to her uncle.


    Safe? She was living in a house with a murderer, a psychopath, how was she supposed to be safe? It was eery how the two men could discuss murders and executions in the same tone that other people talked about sports. She was starting to understand why her mother left all this world of madness behind. What she didn¡¯t understand was why her mother had never warned Serena about this place, or her uncle, or anything for that matter.


    Things had happened rather quickly. She admitted. Maybe there had been no time? No, wait, that was bullshit, her mum had had the time to tell her everything. Okay, maybe not when Serena had been little, but surely her eighteenth birthday would have been perfect? Or maybe not, they had been growing apart for a while. As she had gotten older, she talked less and less with her mum, and then she had gone to college. After that they had barely spoken once a week. Not until Serena had discovered her new talent.


    Almost unconsciously she started to bend the light in the dining hall to shine through her glass of red wine. It was her second glass of the evening, and honestly, not that bad. College had made her accustomed to cheap beer and hard liquor, but the wine tasted softer, more refined. Knowing her uncle, it was probably expensive. As she bent more and more light to be reflected through the glass she thought about her mother and her powers.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    The first time she had cast a spell she had been at a party. She had been sitting on a couch, next to someone who had passed out. She hadn¡¯t been sober either, so at first when she guided the light through a black Bacardi bottle, she had just assumed she was drunker than she thought. But, since that night, she started seeing light in a different way. She could bend and twist it around herself, or guide it through objects, and a number of other tricks. She kept her newfound talent to herself. Why? She hadn¡¯t really known herself.


    Then, in her second year, she had come home for Christmas and she had brought the subject up with her mum. She couldn¡¯t forget the way her mum¡¯s eyes had almost popped out of their sockets. It was the first time she had seen her mother afraid. At the time Serena had wondered why her mum had been in such a state. Now, now she was starting to understand. This world she was now moving in to seemed to be a lot more dangerous than she expected.


    She was abruptly ripped from her thoughts as the two men who were dining with her started clapping. ¡°What? What is going on?¡± She asked, confused and perhaps a little bit fearful. Her uncle was smiling, in a sort of hungry way that she didn¡¯t like at all. He pointed at the glass of wine, which radiated a warm red light.


    ¡°Such fine control, clearly you¡¯ve practiced, maybe I shouldn¡¯t be as cross with your mother as I thought.¡± He said approvingly.


    He picked up his fork and hit the side of her glass. Carefully he listened to the sound that the glass made. Aram, watched quietly, but with interest. ¡°A minor enchantment.¡± Her uncle said, breaking the silence. ¡°Did you mean for it to anchor it in the liquid?¡± He interpreted her silence for what it was, but that didn¡¯t seem to diminish his pride. ¡°Three generations of powerful Cairn mages after one another, how long has it been since you¡¯ve seen that?¡± He asked Aram with glittering eyes.


    The other mage seemed to be a lot less happy, why that was she wasn¡¯t sure. ¡°Steven, she isn¡¯t the only one. The Griffiths have enrolled their oldest in the apprentice programme, the same counts for the Fisher and Lawson families. On your side too there seems to have been an increase in apprentices. We¡¯re reaching record breaking numbers. The last time there were this many of us, Merlin was leading the druid circles against the Romans.¡±


    At the sound of the familiar name Serena looked up, her eyes drawing away from the glass, where she had been trying to discern her own enchantment. ¡°Merlin? I thought he came from the medieval period?¡± She mimicked holding a sword. ¡°That is the whole Excalibur thing, right?¡± The other two mages looked at her with astonishment. She returned their gazes with a glower. ¡°Hey, that is how the movies go.¡± She muttered.


    ¡°I will be adding magical history to her curriculum.¡± Her uncle said, which was, in Serena¡¯s opinion unfair. She was about to say something, but the men had already continued their conversation.


    ¡°I think it is an excellent development.¡± Her uncle said. ¡°We¡¯re due for another increase, there hasn¡¯t been one since the seventeenth century. The world population has been growing rapidly, but our numbers have remained the same. Besides, it will make Serena¡¯s apprenticeship more fun. I had to do with only three rivals, it stunted my growth. It wasn¡¯t until the council got serious about cleaning us up that I was really challenged. Nearly broke me it did. A deathly rivalry will be excellent practice for when you lot come knocking.¡± The last part of the sentence was directed at Aram. Her uncle barked out harsh laughter, but he was alone in his mirth.


    When he turned towards her, his eyes and voice were cold. ¡°You will see, niece, nothing hones ability like the threat of death.¡±

 Chapter 7: Dessert

    Steven looked at his niece, who was staring incredulously at him. He wondered whether she thought he was joking. By the look on her face she clearly wasn¡¯t. She was also afraid. Why? He wondered. Had Aram not said that she was quite safe under his protection? He took a bite of his sashimi salad, which was excellent as always. Getting rid of his British chef had been one of the wiser decisions he had made, after he had just inherited the estate.


    He re-evaluated his niece. More and more it seemed like his sister hadn¡¯t prepared her daughter at all. His niece lacked proper etiquette and didn¡¯t at all seem to know how things worked in his world. What had Irene been thinking? She must have known that one day either she or her daughter would inherit the Cairn estate. Then again, he looked at the glass which was still emitting light, she did have a refined control over her magic. Something, which was most unusual in an apprentice.


    ¡°May I be excused?¡± His niece asked suddenly, quite proper and polite. He was surprised, maybe Irene had done something right.


    ¡°Most certainly, you will miss dessert though.¡± He said, still thinking about his sister. As his niece left the room Winterhand bowed over his plate towards Steven.


    ¡°You¡¯re putting too much pressure on her, she¡¯s frightened.¡± Steven recoiled.


    ¡°Let her be frightened, our world is dangerous and filled with frightening things. The challenge of any mage is to rise above that fear and achieve greatness.¡±


    They were his father¡¯s words. He remembered the day they had been spoken to him. Just before his first duel. That first duel had been terrifying, but also exhilarating. The fear had dissipated over the years as he fought more and more duels, but that exhilaration had remained. There was nothing that could compare to the feeling of having vanquished an enemy.


    ¡°Steven, I implore you, let the girl enrol in the council¡¯s apprentice program. She will get the time to adjust to our world, as well as meet mages her age.¡± Steven¡¯s face was a mask and Aram got the impression that he was no longer dealing with his business partner and occasional friend. The cold emotionless face, the piercing blue eyes filled with disdain, those belonged to the Dark Mage Strepitus.


    ¡°Mage Winterhand, I recommend that you drop the matter. Serena is a member of my household, and more importantly the Cairn family, her education is solely my concern.¡±


    Aram, who was quite adept at hiding emotions himself, didn¡¯t break eye contact with the dark mage. ¡°I was just concerned about her well-being; I did not mean to interfere with your private affairs. Forgive me.¡± Strepitus nodded.


    ¡°Then we shall talk no more of it.¡± Steven poured the other mage another glass of wine. ¡°Let us toast. To the widespread sale of dragon scales, may that source of revenue never run dry.¡±


    The two mages clinked glasses, the note produced by the touching glasses lasted longer than Aram was strictly comfortable with, but he made no mention of it. It was disconcerting how quickly Steven could switch between being a man and being a monster. So much so, that Aram wondered whether if both were facades. It might pay off to have somebody look into the dark mage¡¯s history. The Cairn family had a reputation for being secretive, but in Aram¡¯s extensive experience every mage had secrets they weren¡¯t keeping as closely as they should.


    ¡°Are you really taking Apprentice Cairn to the midsummer ball? It might be a bit much at once for her to go to an event where both sides mingle.¡± Steven tilted his head, but something in his expression indicated that he was pleased that Aram referred to his niece with her proper title.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°I will be keeping a close eye on her, not to mention the protection spells I¡¯m going to lay on her. However, before all that I think I will teach her some basic spell work and make a few introductions.¡±


    ¡°Who were you thinking of?¡± Aram asked with interest. The council¡¯s apprentice programme tended to be on the safe side of things, since it is better to have less powerful mages than no mages at all. He had always wondered what a dark mage¡¯s education would be like.


    ¡°Some of my colleagues, a few non-magical associates and a very old family friend.¡± Steven said casually, but his tone indicated that he would tolerate no further questions.


    Aram decided to change the subject. ¡°Now that I got Wiggins in my pocket, I¡¯m thinking about moving up in the world.¡± Steven nodded curtly; ambition was something he understood well. ¡°What are you thinking, council member, bureaucrat, Librarian.¡± Aram repressed a shiver as the last one was mentioned. It wouldn¡¯t do to express fear in front of a man like Steven, even if the Librarians made his skin crawl.


    ¡°I was thinking council member.¡±


    ¡°Pity, you would have made an excellent Librarian.¡± Steven said, a sardonic smile on his face. Aram repressed another shiver. Somehow, the dark mage seemed to know how the Librarians made him feel and he seemed to find the matter amusing. Aram wondered if he would still find the council¡¯s worst enforces amusing if they appeared on his doorstep. Would he still smile as his spells slid off them, like water off a duck¡¯s back? He studied the man, who he was enjoying this very fine dinner with, and concluded that yes, he probably would smile.


    ¡°Ahh dessert.¡± Steven said as the doors to the dining hall were opened and the servants once again entered. ¡°Caramelized rice pudding.¡± The dark mage said happily. ¡°I don¡¯t have much of a sweet tooth, but for this dish I make an exception.¡± There wasn¡¯t much more conversation as Steven dug into his favourite dessert. His mind was occupied by something else. Three other things in fact. During the dinner he had been trying to solve a particularly tricky magical problem. Casting spells underwater was a ridiculously difficult thing for him to do.


    Simultaneously, he was drafting a curriculum for Serena. As it was, he intended to start with dance lessons and etiquette. Perhaps not the most exciting subjects, but very necessary if she was going to navigate the midsummer ball without embarrassing the Cairn family name. Basic spell work, of course. Not the kind Aram was probably thinking of. Steven had learned what light mages considered basic spell work; in fact, he knew their entire curriculum. The ¡°secrets¡± of which he had obtained during the, somewhat enhanced, interrogation of a recent graduate.


    Incidentally that had also been the first occasion on which he had met a Librarian. Apparently, the council didn¡¯t like it when you took their recently acquired light mages. A fact he found most unreasonable, since the mage had been too weak to do anything about it whilst being two years older.


    The last part of Steven¡¯s fractured mind was enjoying the caramelized fried pudding. A part of him always experienced his food to the fullest, without distraction. It would be a waste of good money and an excellent chef to not do so. Before long however, he was forced to put his spoon beside his empty plate. He calmly drank wine as Winterhand finished his plate as well.


    ¡°Forgive me Aram, for my impoliteness. If it were any other day, I would have asked you to stay longer, maybe spent the night, but I am afraid we will have to cut your visit short here.¡± He said as the light mage finished his glass of wine.


    ¡°I completely understand.¡± Aram said. He had no intention of staying in the mansion tonight, or any night for that matter. ¡°The arrival of your niece, my own sudden arrival, I was surprised that a man of your status was able to receive me at all without notice.¡±


    The two of them stood up and started walking towards the reception hall. ¡°Think none of it, I was expecting you from the moment I heard the news this morning. My niece¡¯s arrival however, was quite unexpected, but ultimately very pleasant. I hope to see you at the midsummer ball, so that we clink glasses once more.¡± The two shared a firm handshake as Stone came to bring Aram¡¯s coat.


    ¡°No doubt, I think this year the wine will taste much sweeter as we reap the benefits of our hard work.¡± Aram said. Another firm handshake and he was out the house, but it was only once he had left the grounds that he relaxed.

 Chapter 8: Long Days, Short Nights

    That night two phone calls were made from the mansion, both to the United States, both to the same woman. The first call was made by a distressed daughter, in desperate need of some reassurance.


    ¡°Mum, he¡¯s crazy. He has killed people. You need to get me out of here, he says he is going to introduce me to people who want to kill me.¡± The words poured out of her, sounding more panicky than she had intended him too.


    ¡°I know honey, that is why we never went to visit when you were little.¡± Her mother answered, sounding sympathetic, but also unsurprised.


    ¡°You knew, but sent me anyway? What the fuck mum! Did you want to get rid of me that badly?¡± Tears started pouring from Serena¡¯s eyes. Sure, she had been a bit of a handful back home, but that couldn¡¯t possibly warrant sending her into mortal danger!


    ¡°Honey, stop shouting.¡± Her mother said with an infuriating calm. ¡°You must listen very carefully now, okay?¡± Serena took a deep breath, then nodded, followed by a slightly embarrassed okay whispered into the phone. ¡°Your grandfather was a man with many enemies, some of which were extremely dangerous. His magic didn¡¯t allow him to take these enemies head on, so he spent a great deal of time building layers upon layers of protection around the house. It is a fortress, even if it doesn¡¯t look like it. As long as you stay on the grounds you will be safe.¡±


    Her mother wasn¡¯t done talking, but Serena interrupted her anyways. ¡°That is all fine and dandy, but I¡¯m supposed to go to this ball in two weeks, I will hardly be protected then, will I. Anyone will be able to walk up to me and kill me!¡± She said in a high-pitched voice.


    ¡°Honey,¡± her mother¡¯s stoic voice came through the wire, ¡°let me finish.¡± Serena took another deep breath.


    ¡°When your uncle came into his powers your grandfather was overjoyed. Another mage in the family! It was extraordinary. Suddenly, all his ambitions suddenly became possible. The next five years your uncle and your grandfather spent together. Mother and I barely saw them, so engrossed they were in their research and politics. We heard things, of course, disappearances, dead bodies, but none of it was linked to either of them. And they, purposefully kept us in the dark.¡± Her mother took a deep breath.


    ¡°When I spoke my brother again, he had changed. He used to be a sweet boy; you know? But my father didn¡¯t train him to be sweet. Shortly after your uncle¡¯s first criminal trial I left. I was going to have you, and since father and Steven were absorbed with their increasingly dangerous ambitions, it seemed that the only safe choice was to raise you far away from them. I never, not for a minute, thought that you would be a mage. But honey you are, and I think you will be a wonderful one.¡± That however did not at all explain why Serena was sitting in this house with a murderer.


    ¡°The problem is, honey, that I can¡¯t teach you how to do magic, and I can¡¯t protect you from people like your uncle. There are mages in the US too, your uncle can learn you how to protect you from them. No, listen.¡± Her mother said, before Serena could interrupt. ¡°Your uncle can protect you from them, because he is one of them. He knows what they are capable of, how they think, how they act when they want something or feel threatened. There is no one else who can teach you that.¡± Serena mulled over the words as a silence fell over the conversation.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    ¡°I could enrol in the council¡¯s apprentice programme, I heard that it is a lot safer.¡± She said, unable to keep a little bit of hope out of her voice. That hope died however when her mother let out a disdainful snort, which reminded Serena an awful lot of her uncle.


    ¡°No honey, that won¡¯t do. You are a daughter of the Cairn family, joining the council¡¯s programme was never an option. Whatever you do, don¡¯t trust the council, they are as bad or even worse than your uncle. Honey, I understand that you are afraid, and believe you me, since you left, I¡¯ve been in a state myself, but we have to get through this. Once your apprenticeship is done you move back state side and we put this unpleasantness behind us.¡±


    But how long would that take? Serena wondered. A year? Five years? Ten? A shiver ran down her spine, there was no way she could spent such a long time in a place like this. Tears started flowing down her face. ¡°He has killed people mum! And he was threatening to do it again!¡± She whispered, quiet despair in her voice.


    ¡°I know love, believe me, I know, but it has to be like this. Or you will never be safe.¡± There was pain in her mother¡¯s voice, but also resolution. She had made up her mind and Serena knew that she wasn¡¯t going to change it.


    ¡°Okay mum, I got to go. Apparently, breakfast is at eight o¡¯clock.¡± Her voice was flat, exhausted.


    ¡°Okay love, we will talk tomorrow and every other day for as long as it takes.¡± Her mother sounded encouraging.


    ¡°I love you mum, bye.¡± Before her mother could respond Serena hung up the phone. ¡°I am so fucked.¡± She whispered to nothing and nobody as she laid her head back on the very soft pillow of her comfortable bed.


    The second call was made from elsewhere in the house. It was a lot shorter and less emotional than the first call, as if the callers had a strained relationship at best.


    ¡°Sister.¡± Steven said in a cold voice as the recipient of his call picked up the phone. ¡°Brother.¡± Came an equally cold voice. ¡°I¡¯m disappointed sister, did you teach her anything of worth?¡± It remained silent for a few seconds; then, mirthless laughter came through the line.


    ¡°I taught her the only things of worth, brother. I taught her to be creative, independent, and dare I say happy. That last one she lost in just a day of being near you in that accursed house.¡± The scathing words were meant to hurt, but they were met by a wall of silence and indifference.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t belong in your world. You will see, once I¡¯m done with her, she will never think of returning to you, only to live in squalor. I can see it in her eyes, the hunger, it is something you never understood.¡± He waited, but no response came. He wondered whether his words still hurt her. Maybe they had lost their power over her, much like her words meant nothing to him.


    ¡°Five years, not a day longer and she comes home for the holidays.¡± Before he could flatly refuse, she continued. ¡°After she has gone to whatever party you¡¯re making her go to.¡±


    He thought for a second. ¡°Agreed.¡± He said. The line went dead. ¡°A pleasure as always.¡± He sneered at the phone, but he was pleased. Regardless what his insolent sister thought, he knew. He had seen it in his niece¡¯s eyes, she was already in love with the house and magic excited her. He knew that excitement, he himself felt it on many occasions when performing magic. It was a pleasure unlike any other and he was an addict. His niece was the same. For a second an image flashed through his mind, a middle-aged man talking excitedly while he was levitating a chair. The memory brought an unbidden smile to his lips and made him look forwards to the coming day.

 Chapter 9: One Last Call

    Steven was early the next day. Something which was unusual for him. He slept precisely eight hours every night, any more would be intolerable. But this morning he was early. He awoke at exactly seven forty-five. He frowned; it was most inconvenient. Him being ahead of schedule meant that the servants would be out of sync, undoing his normal perfect morning routine. And yet he could not lay there for fifteen minutes, wasting time, doing nothing.


    Suddenly, a part of his fractured mind shouted for his complete attention. ¡°Whales?¡± He muttered. ¡°Dolphins? What?¡± He sat upright in bed. ¡°Whales! Dolphins! Yes, that is it.¡± He scrambled for his phone, which was on the other side of the room, and punched in a number. The phone went over a number of times, making Steven almost shout.


    ¡°Yeah, this Dave, who dis?¡± A sleepy voice came over the line.


    ¡°Dave, it is Steven Cairn, I have an urgent assignment.¡± It was silent for a few seconds on the other line.


    ¡°Oh, hello mister Cairn, assignment?¡± The voice sounded a lot clearer suddenly.


    ¡°An urgent assignment Dave yes.¡± Steven said impatiently.


    ¡°I need you to collect as many hours of whale and dolphin sounds as possible, both above and under water.¡± Dave almost fell off the bed he was now sitting on.


    ¡°Whale and dolphin sounds?¡± He asked a bit confused.


    ¡°Both above and under water, different regions and different subspecies.¡± Steven answered, irritated by the other end¡¯s slow responses.


    ¡°Yeah, okay, I can get you those tomorrow, all right?¡± Dave said, already going through his contact list. ¡°Standard price, paid up front.¡± Steven wired the money with barely a thought. ¡°Transaction confirmed, until tomorrow mister Cairn.¡± The line went dead.


    Steven nodded, pleased for having it figured out. He looked at the clock seven fifty. He glowered at the clock. He turned the telly on, watched part of the match that was being replayed, until finally it was eight o¡¯clock. He let out a long breath. ¡°Not as it was supposed to happen, but ultimately fruitful.¡± He said in a desperate attempt to salvage his normally perfect morning routine.


    Grudgingly he entered the shower, it alleviated his annoyance and by the time he came out of the shower the world was right again. ¡°Grey.¡± He mused as he looked at the suits that had been laid out for him. ¡°Something lighter.¡± He dressed and walked towards the dining hall. It was empty, Serena hadn¡¯t woken up yet, excellent. He said down, picked up the single cigarette lying to his steaming cup of coffee.


    Before he could light it however, the doors were thrown wide open and his niece came striding in. He made a quick assessment of her clothing, discount army boots, discount army pants, cheap and worn sweater and finally an A2 deck hat. It all screamed of poverty to him, but she was allowed her own taste. It wasn¡¯t as if he hadn¡¯t seen worse. Some apprentices took being a dark mage a little too literal. With some amusement he recalled the people he had apprenticed with. No, if Serena wanted to dress like this, she was free too. ¡°No hats inside the house, it is impolite.¡± He said quietly.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    For a second, it seemed as if his niece was going to explode, she opened her mouth angrily, then closed it again. She took the cap off and sat down on the other end of the table, as far away from his as she possibly could. Unsurprising, but a little disappointing. He thought, but decided to say nothing of it, instead he lit the cigarette. He then rang the bell in front of him and as the maid entered, he nodded towards his niece. The servant made a curtsy and hurried over to his niece.


    ¡°Thank you, some cereal if you have it and coffee.¡± He heard her say in soft tone. Before the servant could walk away, she stopped her. He watched from behind the pages of the Daily Inquirer, holding the paper just low enough so that he could keep track of the engagement. ¡°I¡¯m sorry what is your name?¡± His niece asked, in a soft voice.


    ¡°Hannah, miss. Hannah Marsh.¡± The maid said, her eyes rushing back and forth between Steven and his niece.


    ¡°Hannah, could you tell Toshiro that I will come to the kitchen later today?¡± Hannah nodded, then curtsied. ¡°Oh, and please, stop that, I¡¯m not some kind of Lady. Honestly, I delivered pizzas before I came here.¡± Humanizing herself towards the servants? No. Embarrassed? Perhaps. He mused as he observed the exchange. His attention was drawn back to the paper and he stopped listening to what was being said.


    HAVE DARK MAGES INFILTRATED THE COUNCIL?


    The headline read, followed by;


    THE LEGALIZATION OF DRAGON SCALES IN A NEW LIGHT


    He quickly read further, a frown forming on his face.


    Written by Patricia Pole.


    The frown deepened; he had an immense dislike for the Pole family. Once upon a time, they had been one of the great magical families of the United Kingdom. The family had however fallen on hard times, mismanagement and a lack of mages. Artifacts had to be sold, many of them now lying in the Cairn vaults, creating gaps in the protection of the Pole family home. The mansion was raided a couple of months later. All of that could happen to the best of families, but it had been their solution which made him despise them.


    The Poles, down on their luck, afraid of their former friends, had gone to the council. In exchange for protection, the Poles had given the council everything. Everything might not had been much in the material sense, but immaterial, that was an entirely different story. The Poles had been a respectable, old family. As such they had been wined and dined in every great magical household across the nation, and a number beyond. The Poles had basically given the council the layout of the homes of every dark mage in Britain.


    The series of raids that had followed had been devastating for many of the old families. Historians now consider it a turning point in mage history. Before, the council had been a player, mostly because they united those mages who didn¡¯t belong to or worked for the old families. Now, the council was sitting on a cache of magical artifacts that would be the envy of even the oldest of magical families.


    He started reading the article. Patricia Pole¡¯s scathing words condemned both the current council as well as the remaining dark mages in the country in a single breath. Apparently, there was a violent conspiracy between certain council members and known dark mages. She didn¡¯t mention names until the very end of the article,


    Who then stands in the very centre of this web of corruption and scandal? A source within the council, who wishes to remain anonymous, points the finger to Aram Winterhand. Mage Winterhand, the source says, associates with dark mages frequently and counts some of them amongst his friends. We tried to reach Mage Winterhand for commentary, but we found his rather large house to be empty. We can only speculate where or with whom Mage Winterhand is spending his days.


    He closed the paper, there was a limit to that women¡¯s dribble he could stomach. When he looked up, he found that Serena had finished her breakfast and was staring at her phone. He stood up, a second later followed by Serena. ¡°Time for class.¡± He said dryly.

 Chapter 10: Interlude

    Council member Archibald Wiggins was having a bad day. Although, it could be set that most of his day were bad. He was currently on his way to see the prime minister, she had summoned him. As the liaison between the council and the regular government Archibald spent a lot of time walking up and down Downing Street. On most days it made him feel important and pleased with his job, today however there was not much of either going on.


    Now, he could have chosen to simply enter Downing Street eleven through a series of interior hallways. Downing Street nine, ten and eleven were all interconnected after all, but that would have shortened his walk by nearly three minutes. Archibald had never been good under pressure or in confrontational situations, which was why he took as long as he feasibly could, before he entered the prime minister¡¯s residence.


    He was directed towards a comfortable sitting room where Prime Minister Georgina Hawkins was having tea. She was a stern woman in her late fifties and she reminded Archibald an uncomfortable amount of his mother. ¡°Mister Wiggins.¡± She greeted him; her thin lips arched downwards. ¡°I expected you earlier, your lateness displeases me. Sit.¡± He hastily took a seat, feeling a lot like a schoolboy who had gotten himself in quite a bit of trouble.


    ¡°Imagine my surprise when I read miss Pole¡¯s article in the paper this morning.¡± Archibald resisted the temptation to swallow. How did the old hag even get a hold of Pole¡¯s article? She wasn¡¯t a mage, he had checked.


    ¡°Complete and utter nonsense of course, the legalization of dragon scales was discussed and voted upon by the council. The idea that dark mages might have infiltrated the council is preposterous.¡± He blurted out.


    The prime minister looked at him as if he were an existence far beneath her, much like his mother used to. ¡°Of course, it is.¡± She said calmly. ¡°Let me assure you prime minister, the council is trying to clean up what remains of the dark mages in England and¡­.¡± He trailed off as her words sunk in.


    ¡°Forgive me prime minister, I didn¡¯t mean to.¡± With a blush he shut his mouth.


    ¡°Mister Wiggins, the incident I¡¯m talking about concerns page fifteen, bottom left. The second article written by miss Pole. The family of four that was murdered by magical means? It even made our news, surely you couldn¡¯t have missed it?¡± Archibald, who was not in charge of magical law enforcement, shook his head.


    ¡°I regret to say I don¡¯t recall such an article.¡± He said as professionally as he could.


    ¡°This is third case this year. The Sutton family was found buried in desert sand, their house seemed to have filled with the stuff. The neighbours didn¡¯t hear a thing, there are no witnesses and the police is baffled. I think we both know, mister Wiggins, that this was done by one of your mages.¡± Before he could put the blame on dark mages the prime minister hushed him. She did that sometimes and it made Archibald want to murder her.


    ¡°The council is a branch of this government, as such, it falls under my jurisdiction, mister Wiggins. Now, I find it intolerable that a nonmagical, ordinary family has been killed on my watch. Because, yes mister Wiggins, it is my watch, your council answers to me, I try to keep the entire population of this country safe. So, I expect a full inquiry into these deaths, the report of which I want on my desk by Monday. Can you manage that, mister Wiggins?¡± He nodded and she smiled. ¡°Excellent, then I will see you next Tuesday to discuss that report. Good day mister Wiggins.¡±Stolen novel; please report.


    Archibald stood up, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. He was feeling a combination of anger, fear and embarrassment, not a good combination for any man, but especially not him. The feeling was made worse when the door opened and his least favourite mage in the world entered. Aram Winterhand looked dashing in his midnight blue suit, a charming smile on his face. It was a facade, Archibald knew, he had seen the void behind those eyes, had seen those lips curl into a cruel smile.


    The handsome mage shook his hand enthusiastically. ¡°Chased any snakes recently?¡± The mage muttered under his breath. A shiver ran down Archibald¡¯s spine.


    ¡°Excuse me, what did you say?¡± He asked, stunned. How dare he bring up the photos in front of the prime minister? How dare he? The utter nerve.


    ¡°I asked whether you¡¯ve been chasing snakes? A number appears to have escaped from the zoo.¡± He pointed at a headline of the newspaper he was carrying.


    SNAKES ON A BUS, LONDON ZOO ON AND UNDER FIRE


    The prime minister snorted. ¡°Mister Wiggins doesn¡¯t read the papers cover to cover; he will probably have missed that.¡± Wiggins, who was on his way out anyways and certainly wasn¡¯t speeding up due to embarrassment, closed the door a little harder than he meant to. Still focused on the trial he just had to endure he stepped outside. He nodded at the police officer and started the short walk to number nine.


    Two streets away, a black Sedan with tinted windows took a turn. On any regular day Archibald would have felt important coming out of a meeting with the prime minister. He would have had a bounce to his step, that would have shortened his walk to number nine. Today however, he was having a bad day and when he did have a bad day his pace slowed, allowing the black Sedan to make another turn, right unto Downing Street.


    Unaware of the approaching car mister Archibald stopped in front of number nine. The Sedan had almost reached him. He walked up the stairs, fumbling for his keys. The tinted window of the right backseat lowered. He put the keys in the door. A gunshot cut through the regular sounds of the city. Archibald turned around, to see where the noise had come from. His movements were strangely slow, as if he was moving through butter.


    Two more gunshots were fired in rapid succession. Archibald¡¯s legs collapsed beneath him. His body was failing him. His lips muttered spells, but as a weather mage there were limits to his powers when the sky was empty. Even if it had been pouring, he had always been shite at healing magic. The truth of the matter was that Wiggins was an average mage at the best of times. It had been his bureaucratic skills and insight, not his magic, that had allowed him to rise to the rank of council member.


    The window of the Sedan rolled up and the car sped up. It was halfway down the street by the time Archibald Wiggins breathed out his last. The pavement turned red as his blood flowed down the steps leading up to number nine. The face of the council member looked surprised, as if confused by the whole event.


    The police were the first to arrive on the scene. Alarmed by the noise the cop in front of number eleven had first alarmed the prime minister, then he had called in the gunshots whilst running towards the crime scene. An ambulance arrived within minutes, but even doing their utmost, there was no saving the dead.


    The next day, for the second time ever Archibald Wiggins was in the papers. The front-page articles were all very similar, but if you could read between the lines you would find out that although mister Wiggin¡¯s murder was outrages and a tragedy it ultimately didn¡¯t make much of a difference. Between the lines that had several members of government promise justice or revenge or both one could read that the government had already found a replacement for mister Wiggins. His name was mentioned only once, in a single sentence.


    ¡°The cabinet is looking forwards to working together with Aram Winterhand, who will be taking over for mister Wiggins starting next week.¡±

 Chapter 11: First Classes

    Serena walked after her uncle, to a part of the house she hadn¡¯t been before. They were in the lower west wing of the house. ¡°There are only two rooms on the ground floor in this part of the house. The dining hall you have already seen.¡± They walked to a set of double doors. ¡°This,¡± he said as he threw open the double doors, ¡°is the ballroom.¡±


    The room was massive, as long as the dining hall, bur far broader. On her left, a wall of mirrors had been installed, probably so that the dancers could look at themselves and the other people on the floor. The room was washed in light by the enormous windows on the other sides of the room. She walked towards the window, but halted instantly as she stepped inside the room. Magic. There were hundreds, no a thousand kinds of magic in this room. She took in a deep breath.


    ¡°Ah, I can see you can feel it, excellent.¡± Her uncle said as he stepped inside himself. ¡°Magic leaves traces and in this ballroom some of the greatest mages Britain has ever known have dances and practiced. Generations of mages have waltzed over these flours and left some trace of their magic behind. Some mages can draw power from that sort of thing, but it requires a deep knowledge of ritual magic, not to mention necromancy, I personally saw little use in it myself. When your reserves of power are as deep as mine, there is little need to draw power from another well.¡±


    He clapped in his hands. ¡°From now on all your practical lessons will be done in here. The place is very well warded, so you don¡¯t have to worry about fallout. You can practice here whenever you want, but don¡¯t start experimenting by yourself, that might be dangerous.¡± He walked towards the far end of the room, where a number of instruments were lying on display.


    ¡°Magic comes in infinite forms, and since no consensus has been reached on how it exactly works, I won¡¯t bore you with the details.¡± He picked up a flute, but laid it down again. ¡°Inside of you there is a reservoir of magic, I want you to tap into it.¡± He touched a saxophone, but retracted his hand as if it was a hot pan.


    ¡°How do I do that?¡± Serena asked, sounding excited and a little confused.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Her uncle said, a warm smile on his lips. ¡°My reservoir is sound. There is a finite number of tones I can play, before I run out and my spells stop working. That reservoir is a part of me, but it is also separate. You need to reach for it. Close your eyes, it might help.¡± Serena took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She saw nothing. With pursed lips she tried to find this mysterious source.


    Unbidden a memory rose to the surface of her mind. She walked through a dark hallway, down a pair of stairs, entering a small damp room. There was a door there. She opened it. Inside it was dark. Her hand found the light switch and she switched it on. Thousands of lightbulbs went on. She opened her eyes, in the palm of her hand was a light. It was warm and bright and suddenly her face cracked open into a smile. It was beautiful. With the hint of a thought she made the light grow in size, until it was like a football sitting in her hand.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Good, very good even. I was right about you, you have extraordinary control for someone your age.¡± He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. ¡°It is a shame that you rely on light. Without it,¡± he waved his hand and the curtains closed, ¡°you¡¯re vulnerable.¡± The darkness within the ballroom was absolute, and to her dismay the ball in her hands started to shrink quickly. She reached for the room and the lights, they were still there, but she could no longer draw on them. It was like she was being blocked.


    ¡°Merlin¡¯s first law,¡± her uncle said from somewhere in the room, ¡°all magic has both an external and internal source. Both are needed to cast spells.¡± A pure note resounded through the room and the curtains opened, letting the light back in. With it came Serena¡¯s power, which almost felt like a warm hug from her mum. ¡°Put me in a room where there is no sound and I become powerless. If somebody takes your light away, they will be able to triumph over you. Mages are strong, much, much stronger than ordinary people. We aren¡¯t invulnerable or immortal.¡±


    Her uncle¡¯s eyes were serious as they bored into her. ¡°If we were, we would have taken over the world a long time ago. It is always good to remind yourself that a resolved person, with a gun and time, can get to us.¡± Serena nodded, no shiver ran down her back this time. The notion that somebody might want to murder her was getting old. Especially since nobody so far had tried to do so. Maybe her uncle was just a touch too paranoid and melodramatic. Especially the latter one, she had noticed, he had a flair for.


    The next hour or so they started casting spells. They focused mostly on defensive and offensive spell casting, and Serena found that she was, in fact, enjoying herself. She felt a little bit like a super hero, shooting beams of light out of her hands, blocking her uncle¡¯s aggressive spells. She was almost sad when the lightbulbs in the room in her mind all turned off, and she found herself unable to cast anything.


    When no more blasts came in his direction, her uncle nodded and put the violin down. ¡°Your reservoir runs deep enough for a prolonged engagement, but your offensive spell casting needs improvement, at most those beams would injure me. Your spells need to be either crippling or lethal, because the spells of your enemies will be.¡± He evaluated. Serena threw her hands in the air.


    ¡°You keep talking about enemies as if I have a host of them, I don¡¯t even know any mages apart from Aram and you. And yet, you act as if at any moment some kind of evil mage will jump out of the bushes and curse us into oblivion! Can you tone it down a little bit?¡±


    She breathed heavily, becoming increasingly aware that she had shouted the last sentence. ¡°Did you know that there used to be more dark than light mages?¡± He quietly said. Serena, who of course didn¡¯t know, shook her head. ¡°It wasn¡¯t even that long ago either. Your grandfather lived in those days, and they ended with him. I was nearing the end of my apprenticeship, watching the house, when it happened. First, they hit the gathering of influential dark mages your grandfather was attending. There were no survivors. Then they went to the homes of those dark mages.¡±


    His face was an emotionless mask. ¡°When the sun rose the next morning, the council had taken over, establishing themselves as the rulers of all mages in the nation. They might call themselves ¡°light mages¡±, but that doesn¡¯t make them good. The remaining dark mages banded together for a while, but we failed to overcome our rivalries and old blood feuds. There are plenty of people on either side that want you dead, simply because you carry the Cairn name.¡±


    He abruptly turned around and left the ballroom, leaving Serena alone with the ominous statement.

 Chapter 12: Resounding Steps

    The days were passing by quickly as Serena dived into her studies. To her dismay not all of it proved to be as fun as spell casting. Mage etiquette was boring and felt outdated, theoretical magic was difficult to understand and magical history turned out to be bloody, frightening and filled with war crimes. Unfortunately, the last one was a lot less exciting than one might have thought. Magical history was written as dryly as regular history, and Serena had patience for neither.


    She was in for a surprise however when she sat down for breakfast. Her uncle was hidden behind one of his three papers. Had it not been for the smoke rising upwards at regular intervals and the turning of a page now and then, he might as well have been an oddly placed statue.


    ¡°Dancing.¡± He suddenly said, lowering his paper to look at her. Serena, who was halfway through her cornflakes, laid her spoon back in her bowl.


    ¡°Dancing?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Dancing.¡± Her uncle confirmed and disappeared behind his paper again. Serena let out an exasperated sigh, he wasn¡¯t going to tell her more, at least not until he had finished his coffee and papers. She couldn¡¯t dance, unless you counted bobbing up and down with a crowd. It wasn¡¯t something that had pulled her in. Honestly, back in the States she hadn¡¯t really been into anything. Life had been quite dreary, which was perhaps the reason she hadn¡¯t contacted any of her old friends.


    Yet. She added after a few seconds. She hadn¡¯t contacted her old friends yet. But what was she going to tell them? For a brief second, she considered telling the truth, that she was a mage being taught by another mage. The amount of Harry Potter jokes and references that would follow alone would be the end of her. Her hand strayed to her phone regardless. A quick check in, it had almost been a week since she left after all.


    Her phone had blown up with messages. She scrolled down the massive number of messages. ¡°What in the actual fuck?¡± She mused. Those messages hadn¡¯t been there yesterday or the day before, or way before that. ¡°Ehm uncle?¡± She asked. A hmmmm came from behind his paper. ¡°Is there any particular reason why my phone didn¡¯t get the messages it was supposed to?¡±


    The paper went down, her uncle¡¯s face was unreadable. ¡°Ah that would be the curse.¡± Serena raised her eyebrows.


    ¡°Excuse me, curse? Are you kidding me?¡± Steven shrugged.


    ¡°One of our ancestors was stupid enough to call upon a witch coven. They made some kind of deal involving a letter of sorts. He didn¡¯t uphold his end and they cursed him. Now, all written messages get delayed. I recommend that you call, the curse incident happened before the telephone was invented.¡±


    Serena shook her head with an unbelieving smile. ¡°That is the dumbest thing I¡¯ve heard so far. Haven¡¯t you tried to break the curse.¡± Her uncle¡¯s lips turned into a thin line, a no then. ¡°Witches have a different kind of magic, difficult for mages to understand.; Their power comes from a different source, and you can¡¯t take it from them. Regular counter spells and dispel magic do not work against their craft. Witches and warlocks are very difficult to deal with, I recommend not engaging with them. I think there is a book on it in my library, if you want to know more?¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Serena shook her head. ¡°No thanks, I¡¯m good.¡± Her uncle frowned and she could feel he was about to lecture her on her speech, so she breached a different topic. ¡°Dancing?¡± She asked. Steven folded his paper.


    ¡°Dancing.¡± He said and stood up. Without another word he walked out of the dining hall, but she already knew where he was going.


    He waited for her to enter the ballroom and closed the door behind her. Music filled the air as he started casting spells. The windows tinted over, giving a night like appearance, lights flickered on and the instruments floated upwards, ready to play. ¡°That will do nicely. All right, lets first try this the normal way.¡± Her uncle muttered.


    He turned towards her. ¡°The midsummer ball is opened by mage apprentices. It is an old tradition that stems from the dark ages. It is our way of showing that even the weakest, least trained mages, are still stronger than any other magically inclined group.¡± Serena gave him a disbelieving look, he shrugged. ¡°There were a couple of wars and a whole lot of skirmishes, we will cover that in magical history. Point in case, mages won most of the wars due to the sheer destructiveness of our power. Although, I must say we might lose in the long run. I¡¯ve always suspected that a circle of witch covens, supported by necromancers, caused mage infertility to rise. When you get into mage population numbers¡­.¡±


    He trailed off, then coughed. ¡°The point is that the apprentices open the dance and the first dance is always a waltz. You have heard of waltzes before?¡± Serena shot him a deadly glare. ¡°The principle behind them is simple, just keep to the rhythm. One, two, three. One, two, three.¡± He started showing her the moves, which were surprisingly easy. Once he had shown her both the male and female parts, there weren¡¯t always enough apprentices of both sexes, he spent some time correcting her posture.


    ¡°Yes, we should try this with some music. I will dance the male part.¡± He said, walking towards the instruments.


    ¡°Have you ever danced the female part?¡± She asked curiously.


    ¡°A number of times, but not many were memorable. Reynold Coventry was a particularly fine dancer. He will most certainly be attending.¡± When he turned around and saw Serena¡¯s smirking face, he tilted his head. ¡°If you are suggesting mage Coventry and I engaged in more than a dance you are mistaken. I have found that romance is better left to the unwashed masses.¡±


    The music started and Serena¡¯s smirk was almost immediately wiped from her face. It was more difficult with the music on. It was harder to find the rhythm in the abundance of sound. The whole thing was made more frustrating by her uncle, who moved perfectly, making her feel like a stumbling baboon.


    Finally, the song came to an end. ¡°Sloppy, imprecise, a complete disaster.¡± Her uncle proclaimed dramatically. ¡°That was what my father told me the first time I danced. I¡¯m sorry to say that you¡¯re not much better.¡± He walked to the orchestra and picked up a violin. ¡°I composed this spell out of spite.¡± He grinned, suddenly looking boyish. ¡°Consider it an early Christmas gift.¡± He said as he started playing. ¡°Don¡¯t resist, just let your feet learn the moves.¡± Music, both real and magical filled the room once more.


    This time however, Serena¡¯s feet danced her part perfectly. Her uncle¡¯s lips didn¡¯t move as he cast his spell, his face stern in concentration. But what his face lacked in emotion his eyes made up for. As she weaved and turned across the dancefloor his eyes danced with excitement. He might be a difficult man to live with, a dangerous man nearly all the time, but once he started casting, he was someone else entirely.


    As Serena¡¯s feet started on its last sequence, she saw an artist.

 Chapter 13: London

    After class Steven had other business to attend to. His niece was apparently obsessed with her phone, ever since her messages had arrived and class had ended, her eyes had been glued to the screen, her fingers typing faster than the human eye could follow. He didn¡¯t anticipate trouble from that corner.


    And indeed, she waved half-heartedly as he mentioned stepping out for a bit. He waved away Mister Stone, who wanted to know if he was going by car, and if so, which one. Steven didn¡¯t feel like driving however, he was going to take the phonebooth. As the doors of the mansion closed behind him, he walked towards the east wing of the house.


    Snugly nestled in the corner of the mansion stood a red phonebooth. He opened the door and stepped inside. There used to be a time when mages had been obsessed with telephones and the types of magic one could perform with them. It had been a fad, proven outdated rather quickly.


    These days, teleportation stones were shipped in large quantities from somewhere in China. Why waste time setting up connections, when a quick word whispered to a stone could bring you to almost any place within a five-hundred-mile radius. The answer was simple, when you set up your own connections you couldn¡¯t be monitored. He dialled a number.


    Way down south, in an identical phonebooth in London a phone started to ring. Steven took a deep breath. ¡°Viatoris.¡± He spoke and was sucked into the telephone wire. For a few seconds as the telephone at the Cairn mansion fell and the one in London rang Steven didn¡¯t exist. He didn¡¯t think or feel, he was just an assembly of sound. Then, he picked up the phone. The other end of the line was dead.


    He hung up the phone and stepped outside, breathing the city air. ¡°I fucking hate London.¡± He said after a few seconds, making some pedestrian glare at him. His eyes scanned the street, no cabs. His annoyance was steadily growing. It started raining. His annoyance rose further. England, he thought as he ducked into London¡¯s grey streets, wasn¡¯t his favourite country in the world. There was a reason he kept the British government out of his business, but if he was honest with himself that might be more because of the government part than the British part.


    He finally found a cab, which was warm, dry and thus felt very welcoming. It wasn¡¯t necessarily that Steven disliked the idea of a government, something had to keep the masses in check after all. It was more that he disliked the idea of a government which he didn¡¯t lead. And since the council felt that it had to answer to someone, in this case some woman chosen by regular people, there wasn¡¯t a chance that he would demean himself by answering to someone like that. Democracy, he found, was just a bit too silly an idea for him to get behind.


    The cab stopped in front of an office somewhere in Canary Wharf. He looked up at the towering building made from blue glass. It was, of course, his. Or more accurately put, he was a co-owner of the building and the company inside. He walked through the revolving doors into the bowels of the building. The ground floor was abustle with activity, lawyers coming and going, carrying an air of importance around them. Steven smiled, he didn¡¯t come here often enough.


    Above the counter, which was manned by young, smart looking men and women, written in serious looking letters the name of the company was spelled out.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ARCANA INCORPORATED


    Beneath that in smaller, more formal, letters the company¡¯s slogan was slapped on.


    Protecting traditional rights and privileges since 1932


    He didn¡¯t bother heading to the counter, opting to go directly to security instead. He took his time getting there however. Security was tight and included both magical and non-magical measures. Already he was attracting attention as people started to recognize him from the large portraits that hang upstairs. He paid it no attention however, his eyes still fixed on the security measures, trying to find a flaw.


    When his curiosity, and perhaps paranoia, was sated he walked in a straight line towards the checkpoint. The security guard almost saluted him as he recognized his boss. ¡°Mister Cairn, we have been expecting you, the other members of the board are already inside. Please, allow me to let you trough.¡±


    Steven shook his head. ¡°No.¡± The security guard became pale.


    ¡°Sir?¡± He asked, at a loss for direction. Steven¡¯s lips curled into a smile.


    ¡°No, you won¡¯t just let me in. You will insist on running through the protocols, like everybody else.¡± The security guard became even paler.


    ¡°Sir.¡± He demonstrated weakly.


    ¡°I insist.¡± Steven said softly, but no longer amused.


    The entire reception hall had gone quiet, watching the standoff. The security guard swallowed. ¡°Yes sir.¡± He rasped. What followed was an awkward procedure, which took about three minutes, but felt like hours. Once Steven made it through the procedure he nodded once.


    ¡°I am satisfied. Inform your superiors that they won¡¯t have to inspect you this year. You did your job to a satisfying degree.¡± The guard nodded shakily.


    Without further acknowledgement of the man Steven turned around and walked towards the elevator. He punched in the button for the top floor and quietly waited for the elevator to reach his destination. Eventually the doors opened and he stepped into a marble hallway, which ended in a set of double doors, made of steel and glass. The glass wasn¡¯t see-through, but clouded over, as if some white fog clang to the other side of it.


    Arcana Incorporated for the largest part was a regular advocacy group, dedicated to protecting the powerful, old and rich families of the United Kingdom. As such, most people employed there knew nothing of magic or the magical world. Some might be vaguely familiar with it, but in a roundabout sort of way. The company was built to reflect that, for all intends and purposes it was a normal office, filled with normal lawyers. The only floor that diverted from this carefully constructed front was the top floor.


    As Steven walked towards the double doors, he got the feeling of being in a cathedral. Pillars of black marble rose impossibly high to support a roof, which the building clearly didn¡¯t have. That wasn¡¯t the hallway¡¯s main feature however. Every two yards there was a large alcove with a statue inside of it. Each of the six board members had its own statue, which was dressed in traditional mage getup.


    Vanity had its place after all, and what they had accomplished was quite great indeed. He was already late, but he took a moment to pay respect to a seventh and eight statues. The two men who looked remarkably similar and shared characteristics with Steven. Plagues beneath the statues proclaimed them to be CEO Henry Cairn and CEO Thomas Cairn, his grandfather and father respectively.


    For a second, he wondered whether they would approve of the direction he had taken the company in. Then he remembered that their approval no longer meant anything and he walked on. He touched the heavy double doors and they swung open for him. Five mages stared at him from a raised set of desks.


    ¡°Well than ladies and gentlemen, shall we begin?¡±

 Chapter 14: When the Cats Away

    Serena wasn¡¯t as absorbed by her phone as her uncle had thought. In fact, she had been idly messaging some friends, while keeping a close eye on the older mage. When he announced that he was going to step out for a bit she pretended not to be interested. She had remained in her seat until she heard the front door close.


    She got up, turned off her phone and left the dining hall. With an exciting bounce in her step she hurried upstairs, to the second floor. The west wing loomed as she looked around for the servants. The coast was clear. She tried to be quiet, just in case. There were four doors, all of different make and shape. Two were ornate, with intricate woodcarvings, depicting mages doing spells. A third door looked new, as if it had recently been replaced. It was however the last door that drew her attention. The fourth door was entirely made out of steel, looking almost aggressive in its heaviness.


    She tiptoed towards the heavy metal frame, there wasn¡¯t a doorknob. ¡°How do you open this thing?¡± She muttered as she placed her hand against the cold steel. Suddenly, she cried out, something had cut her! She searched, finding a bloody spot on the door. Hidden in the door there was a small groove. She reached for the room inside her, and extinguished a light bulb. Light appeared in her hand and she shone it on the groove.


    Inside the groove a tiny blade was hidden, her blood on it. As she shone a light on the blood it started glistening. Her eyes widened as it started to steam. A second later the heavy metal door swung open. She entered a small room. Wooden panels lined the halls, the ceiling and even the floor. She could feel the weight of hundreds of wards and enchantments wash over, making the air thick and a little difficult to breathe.


    She ignored the lab coats, protective gear and everything else in the small room. Instead, she walked straight towards the door on the other end of the room. She opened it and what she saw made her jaw drop.


    In the centre of the room stood a gigantic stone, covered in music notes. Had that been all, she would have been able to look at it objectively, but the fact that the stone was covered in a substance, which looked a suspicious lot like blood. Then, the smell hit her. The thick, metallic smell of freshly spilled blood. It made her want to vomit. She actually did, in a conveniently placed garbage can, when she saw the bodies.


    To the left of the bloody stone three bodies were lying on slabs. They were all in different stages of dissection. When she reached them, she realized that two of the three bodies weren¡¯t human. No, that was perhaps wrong, they were almost human. A man with a goat¡¯s head and a woman whose bones were on the outside of her body. ¡°What the fuck.¡± She whispered. Quickly she got her phone out of her pocket. When she wanted to take a picture however, her screen remained black.


    ¡°Fuuuuck.¡± She said as she tried to make the thing work. Maybe it was the enchantments, or the bodies, or the stone, or maybe her battery was just empty, but she wasn¡¯t going to take a picture today. Surely, her mom would want her to come home if she realized that dear uncle Steven was keeping bodies in his house, right?If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    She walked through the laboratory. She rifled through the desk, finding notes which were quite hard to understand. It was all advanced magic, things her magical education hadn¡¯t touched on yet, and probably would not for a while. She was nervous as she sneaked around, searching the place. She felt a little bit like a detective in the crime novels her mother liked to read. If she wasn¡¯t terrified that her uncle could enter the room any second, she might even have enjoyed herself.


    After a couple of minutes, she decided on a tactical retreat. She had seen enough. Her uncle was bleeding bodies, supernatural and regular, to achieve something with that stone of his. Whatever it was, it was surely illegal and dangerous. As she closed the door behind her, entering the small room again, she realized that it probably wouldn¡¯t be enough for her mother to bring her home. Between them they already knew that her uncle was into some dangerous and highly illegal stuff. That hadn¡¯t been a deterrent for her mum, who had sent Serena regardless of that fact.


    The steel door closed behind her with a kind of finality that made her jump. But her uncle didn¡¯t appear suddenly, yelling his lungs out of his body or giving her one of those cold glances that made people shudder in their boots. He thought she didn¡¯t see those, but Serena was a lot more observant than most people thought.


    He wasn¡¯t home, wouldn¡¯t be for some time probably. Why stop here? There were three more doors, all with their own secrets. She walked towards one of the old ornate doors. When she pushed it open it revealed a bedroom, quite an ordinary one at that. A quick walk around made her lose all interest. There was no magic here, just a bedroom and a renovated bathroom. Boring.


    She closed the door behind her. Two left. She chose the recently renovated door. Much like the bedroom it wasn¡¯t locked and she quickly discovered why. The room was filled with sheet music, instruments and recording materials. It was a mess, unlike the rest of the mansion, which was immaculate and it didn¡¯t feel like her uncle, who tended to be organized and the picture of control.


    It was clear however that he had made this mess himself. The sheet paper had only one type of handwriting, her uncle¡¯s precise lettering, which she saw everyday as he taught her. But this version of his handwriting was less precise and more hurried. She grinned as she saw that in the corner of the room torn up and otherwise discarded sheet music had gathered. It was like she was looking into a part of her uncle¡¯s mind that very few people knew about. Together with the bedroom the studio made her uncle seem more human.


    A notion which she quickly disabused herself off as her mind went back to the laboratory. A bit careless now, she pulled the door closed behind her. The house remained silent. She had come this far. The ornate door to the library stared at her. Before she knew it, her hand was on the knob. It was like she was in a trance, as if she couldn¡¯t stop herself. She opened the door.


    She entered the library, which by all accounts looked like a regular room, but she could feel the weight of enchantments. Yet, she was drawn towards the book case. She was barely aware that she had climbed the ladder, to reach one of the top shelves. The books there were dusty, but she didn¡¯t mind as her hand searched for something.


    In the corner of the room a large grandfather clock chimed. She turned to look, suddenly in front of the door. She blinked. The clock told her three hours had passed, but that couldn¡¯t be right. She had been inside the room for only a few minutes! ¡°What?¡± She half said, half asked, almost hitting herself with the book she was holding.


    Wait what?

 Chapter 15: The Mice Play

    Serena looked at the book she was holding. It didn¡¯t have a title, but it was beautifully bound in a light grey cover. Her fingers traced the poison ivy which had been woven into the books cover. She opened it, ignoring every instinct that was telling her not to read the magical book. On the firs page in elegantly curved letters was written;


    Property of Alias Cairn


    On the second page, written in the same curly handwriting;


    The Tales of the Grey Mage


    She was aching to read it, but god knew how long she had been snooping around her uncle¡¯s rooms. She was already going to have nightmares from what she had seen in the laboratory. She didn¡¯t even want to know what he would do if he caught her in his wing. Softly she closed the library door behind her. She almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the front door slam shut.


    ¡°You had a good outing, sir?¡± Mister Stone inquired, in an appropriate repressed manner.


    ¡°A very good one, Mister Stone, a very good one indeed.¡± She heard her uncle respond in a chipper manner. Quickly she hurried towards her room in the east wing. Her room had quickly turned into a big mess over the last few days. Serena was an organized person, but in a way most teachers would disapprove off. There were small stacks of books everywhere. On top of each stack she had planted small flags, made out of wooden skewers and paper. On each little flag two things were written.


    On one side it had the topic name of the books stacked beneath it. On the other she had written a number, indicating the priority the stack got. The only stacks with top priority, the flags depicting a one, were offensive and defensive combat spells. She ignored the stacks, who she felt were glaring at her, and jumped into bed. It truly was, the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in. She opened the book, skipped the first two pages and started reading.


    Friday 13 November 1890,


    If you are reading this it means that I am dead, or that you are my publisher. My name is Alias Cairn and different from my fellow mages I have decided not to take sides in the coming conflict. I neither stylize myself a light, nor a dark mage and have no intention of ever doing so. Instead I would call myself a Grey Mage. Now, dear reader you might think that this is a tale about the conflict that I can see brewing, but this is not. For a complete discussion on the nature of these so called light and dark mages please read my other work; Between Light and Dark, an outsider¡¯s perspective on mage politics in the UK.


    No, dear reader, this book contains none of the sort. Instead, I would like to recount my journeys and the remarkable people I have met on those journeys. Now, I hear my contemporaries screaming about the magical inferiority of non-European mages. I will address their concerns briefly and as follows; in my journeys across the world I have encountered spells and mages unlike any found in Europe. Some of these practitioners commanded greater power than any European mage I know about. Any theorems suggesting otherwise I will firmly debunk.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    With that unpleasantness out of the way, I will now move on towards the first of my tales. The first story takes place during my first trip towards the colonies. It was a cold Friday in December 1840 when I left these familiar islands behind to travel towards more exotic lands. My destination, India. It is there that I met a teacher and lifelong friend, Guru Atiksh.


    There was a knock on the door. Hastily Serena put the book beneath her pillow and picked up one of the large tomes lying on the other side of the bed. ¡°Serena, are you decent?¡± Her uncle asked.


    ¡°Yes, come in.¡± She called out, making sure that the book wasn¡¯t visible. Her uncle entered a second later. He seemed to be in an excellent mood.


    ¡°Tonight, we¡¯re meeting a few friends of mine, colleagues you might say. I expect you to dress formally and behave in accordance with proper magical etiquette.¡± Guiltily she looked towards a stack with books in the far corner of the room. A three had been written on the back of the flag.


    At first it had been a two, but the sheer boringness of the books had punched it down to three, plus an exile to the horrid corner. The etiquette stack shared its banishment there with the stack on magical theory, may both never be read. ¡°I don¡¯t have formal dress.¡± She said as her uncle looked expectantly. He smiled.


    ¡°I have taken the liberty of having several dresses, formal robes and any other attire you might need made and placed in the left closet.¡± He walked towards a wooden panel in the wall and pressed it.


    Serena, who had so far hadn¡¯t thought of pressing the walls and who had been using the large wardrobe in the corner of the room, was surprised by the amount of space that appeared to be behind the panel. She got up and walked into the closet. She was surrounded by shoes, boots, ball dresses, cocktail dresses, a number of smart looking suits and finally mage robes.


    ¡°Uncle, I don¡¯t know what to say.¡± She said, perplexed and meaning every word. Then the right question sprang to mind. ¡°How did you get my measurements?¡± He gave her an incredulous look.


    ¡°Identification spell, of course.¡± He said with an expression that made her out for mad. ¡°Do you really think I would just rush any mage who forces their way into my house without any information? The second you set foot in this house I knew everything about you that can be perceived, plus a few things which can¡¯t be. I had these made during your second day here. I anticipated the clothing problem and acted accordingly.¡±


    He seemed quite pleased with how things had turned out. It seemed that the invasion of Serena¡¯s privacy didn¡¯t even come to mind as an issue. It made her want to wrap her arms around herself, but she refrained for he would surely comment on it. The irony of the situation didn¡¯t escape her. She had spent her free time today snooping around his rooms, only to find out that he had invaded her privacy days earlier.


    Suddenly, she was reminded of the laboratory and the thing her uncle was making there. A shiver ran over her back, which caught her uncle¡¯s attention. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.


    ¡°Something wrong?¡± He asked, his tone several degrees colder than it been before. She beamed a smile at him, which was only three quarters fake, one quarter was reserved for the red mage robes and matching brown leather boots she had spotted from the corner of her eye.


    His suspicious expression evaporated at the sight of her smile. ¡°Good. We will be leaving in an hour, if you haven¡¯t eaten yet I would recommend you do so. Where we¡¯re going you don¡¯t want to try the food.¡± With that ominous announcement he left the room. Serena released a long sigh, before smiling at the red mage robes.


    ¡°Oh, you and I are going to become great friends.¡±

 Chapter 16: The Meeting

    Steven was waiting at the entrance to the estate. Since he had nothing to do until his apprentice was finally ready, he had decided to treat himself. With quiet satisfaction he smoked a cigarette, his second of the day. It was unusual for him to depart from his single cigarette a day doctrine. However, sometimes it was good to divert from regular patterns. It wasn¡¯t as if he would start smoking more. The thought of a substance holding power over him was absurd and infuriating at the same time.


    But he couldn¡¯t deny that he felt quite relaxed when his niece showed up. She was wearing the red mage robes he had seen her gravitate towards. The deep scarlet of the fabric matched her hair and he found that she looked rather dashing. Good. Beauty distracted and his niece needed to distract other practitioners, since her poker face was one of the worst ones he had ever seen.


    Much like his sister Serena was an open book. Easily read and thus easily manipulated. For tonight he had stayed with his tried and tested black robes. A bit traditional perhaps, but where they were going that might be a good thing. Although, you never quite knew with fae. ¡°Now remember,¡± he said admonishingly, ¡°don¡¯t eat or drink anything.¡± Serena nodded, looking very excited. ¡°And watch what you say, our hosts tonight will certainly be doing so.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, let¡¯s go.¡± Serena said excitedly. Steven pushed the gate open and walked westwards. The two of them were walking for a good hour when suddenly Steven stopped.


    ¡°Finally.¡± Serena exclaimed, followed by a string of complaints.


    Steven ignored her as he retrieved a key from his robes. It was an old heavy key that used to unlock an ugly cabinet which he had destroyed in target practice twenty years earlier.


    ¡°Observe.¡± He said, cutting through his niece¡¯s complaining. He put the key in the ground and twisted it as if he was unlocking something, which incidentally he was. The ground beneath the key shimmered, then disappeared, revealing what seemed to be a line of pure, golden energy.


    ¡°This is a ley line. Our ancestors built the Cairn estate near one to be able to travel large distances instantly. Grab my hand.¡± He reached out to his niece, who after a moment¡¯s hesitation grabbed his hand. He moved to touch the golden energy and suddenly they were off. It was like taking a deep breath. Steven released the breath he had been holding and found, to his satisfaction that their surroundings had changed.


    They were standing beside a garbage container, the sounds of a city heavy around them. ¡°Where are we?¡± Serena asked as Steven locked the ley line again. He looked up and smiled.


    ¡°Paris.¡± He said.


    ¡°Paris? You¡¯re joking?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°The party were attending tonight is here, in Paris, so no. Follow me.¡± They started walking through the city, which was a sea of lights and noise. It was a lot dirtier than Serena had expected. From their current position they couldn¡¯t see the Eiffel tower or any other classic Parisian land marks. Instead they were heading for a busy area, where people were clearly in a party mood.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Their clothes made them stand out, but as they went deeper into the district people were dressed stranger and stranger. Bars and clubs lined the street, but it wasn¡¯t in front of one of those that Steven stopped. No, he chose a basement door which looked filthier than any place Serena had seen tonight.


    He knocked on the door. For a moment Serena thought that he had the wrong address, but after a few seconds the door was opened by a stunning woman. Her features were sharp, almost unnaturally so, but her eyes were what drew Serena¡¯s attention. They were a shad of deep purple that was mesmerizing. The woman looked at them, or rather, she looked at Steven.


    ¡°Mage Strepitus, it has been a long time, ten years?¡± She asked, with a thick French accent.


    "?a fait dix ans oui, beaucoup trop longtemps. Alertez votre maitresse, s''il vous pla?t." Steven responded in fluid French as he gave the woman three kisses.


    ¡°She will be most pleased. Who is your companion?¡± She asked with a smile.


    ¡°Marie, meet my niece, Serena. She is the next heir to the Cairn estate as well as my apprentice.¡± He said the word apprentice in a very neutral tone, but it still elicited a response. Marie had an excellent poker face, so her eyebrows barely twitched, but for Steven that was enough. Real surprise, the word hadn¡¯t gotten out then. If news of his apprentice had spread in regular mage society Marie would have been informed.


    ¡°Spicy.¡± She commented. ¡°Come on in, the weather is dreadful.¡± Serena who found the weather just fine hurried inside. Instantly, loud noise engulfed her. It wasn¡¯t at all what she was expecting. On a large dancefloor young people danced and drank and seemed to be doing drugs quite freely. On a balcony overlooking the dance floor older mages sat together and seemed to be having normal conversations. There were almost too many places to look.


    Standing around a table to her left were three men with dog heads drinking whisky and smoking cigars. As she and her uncle passed one sniffed the air and growled. She saw a hand, which looked suspiciously like a paw, reach inside a jacket to what might have been a holster. ¡°Weredogs, smarter than werewolves, with more control, but they are part dog all the time.¡± Steven commented.


    As they traversed the room he pointed at different groups of people, commenting on who they were and whether they were important. ¡°Those middle eastern gentlemen over there,¡± he pointed at a balcony where a group of old men in kaftans were discussing something that seemed serious, ¡°they¡¯re embalmers. Necromancers, the respectable kind.¡± He nodded at a group of women, who were scantily clad in black leather. ¡°Witches. Stay away from them if you know what is good for you.¡±


    One of the women blew Serena a kiss and she returned the favour. She noticed a group of young men in expensive suits standing apart from everybody else, drinking heavily, doing coke and making a lot of noise. What drew her attention to them was how everybody seemed to take special care to avoid them. ¡°Who are they?¡± She asked.


    Steven¡¯s face contorted in disgust. ¡°Soul drinkers.¡± He said, the distaste clear in his voice. ¡°They consume souls to get a temporary power boost. Never acknowledge them, they¡¯re parasites.¡± Serena watched as one of them retrieved a small glass vial from his suit. In the vial was a beautiful little light. She saw him uncork the vial and put it to his lips. She felt the urge to vomit as he swallowed and shivered in pleasure. ¡°Terrible isn¡¯t it? It is a fate worse than death.¡± Steven said.


    He headed for a set of stairs in the back of the club, which Serena presumed led to the balcony overhead. At the foot of the stairs he turned towards her. ¡°Enjoy yourself, make useful connections, don¡¯t get killed.¡± He grinned, amusement clear on his face and stepped unto the stairs. Not knowing what to do she tried to follow him, but when she tried to step on the stairs, she found she couldn¡¯t. It was as if she was being blocked by a kind of invisible wall.


    ¡°I am afraid it is members only. As I said, go and enjoy yourself.¡± Steven said, his amusement resounding through his voice. Then, he turned around and walked away, leaving Serena to her own devices.

 Chapter 17: Kiss and Tell

    Dark Mage Strepitus walked up the stairs, his black robes billowing around him. Upstairs he took a right turn, ignoring the balcony. Instead he made his way to a black door. He didn¡¯t wait to knock, calmly opening the door. The office was dimly lit and filled with people.


    Strepitus ignored the other people and walked straight towards the far end of the office, where a woman, clad in the latest fashion, was sitting on a naked man. To say she was attractive woman was an understatement. Her skin was a soft brown, reminding of South-America and summer son. Her hair was a deep black and soft like silk. Had Strepitus been interested in such things he would have noticed her curves and perfect hourglass figure, but his only interest was her eyes, which were hidden behind large sunglasses.


    She was writing something down, two more naked men forming her desk. She looked up and let a small gasp. ¡°Mon cheri, I am so glad to see you.¡± She purred, but stopped when she looked at the dark mage¡¯s face. ¡°You are here on business.¡± She said, her voice becoming colder with every word. Strepitus lips curled into a smile.


    ¡°If I was here for anything else, I am sure you would find a way to make me join your furniture.¡±


    He nodded at the lamp in the corner, who seemed to be pleased that his mistress glanced at him for less than a second.


    ¡°I would have loved to add someone of your calibre to my collection.¡± The woman admitted.


    ¡°People of my calibre do not become desperate enough to make those kinds of deals. We would rather perish.¡± Strepitus looked at the assembled naked men and women with distaste.


    ¡°Sit down, will you, I don¡¯t like you looming over me.¡± The woman snapped. From the shadows a woman came forwards and kneeled down. She shivered when Strepitus gave her a look of utter disdain. He did however sit down.


    ¡°You are aware of the operation my colleagues and I have been preparing.¡± He stated.


    ¡°Yes, I called in a favour. I like to keep tabs on all the mayor players on the other side of the canal.¡± The woman stated.


    ¡°Then you are aware of what is hidden beneath Westminster?¡±


    The woman nodded, an amused smile on her lips.


    ¡°You,¡± she stated confidently, ¡°need a distraction, something big. Would a centuries old monster rampaging through the streets of London do?¡±


    Strepitus took a moment to organize his thoughts, all parts of his fractured mind coming together, calculating, adjusting his plans, until he looked up.


    ¡°Yes, that will do, I need it released on the winter solstice.¡±


    ¡°Not so fast, what do I get in return?¡± The woman said. Strepitus smiled.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°How long has it been since you went home?¡±


    The woman jumped up, as if she had been stung by a bee. ¡°Everybody out!¡± She snapped as Strepitus calmly rose from his seat. Within moments the office had emptied. ¡°You found a way.¡± She breathed.


    ¡°It is more that a way came upon my path. My niece, you see, is a light mage.¡±


    ¡°If you are lying to me, I will visit vengeance upon you like have never seen.¡± She breathed.


    ¡°Take off your glasses.¡± Strepitus said calmly.


    ¡°It is not allowed, if the Commission finds out they will come after me.¡± She said defensively.


    ¡°Take off your glasses.¡± Strepitus now ordered. She didn¡¯t have to obey him, she knew that very well. This was after all her home, her seat of power. But when she looked into his eyes, she knew she was going to. She took off her glasses.


    ¡°It is said that those who look into the eyes of the summer court can tell no lie.¡± He started, clearly enjoying the experience. ¡°I know this to be true, my experiments have confirmed as much.¡± He looked deeply into the woman¡¯s eyes, if they could be called thus. ¡°Every time I see them, I must admit that I desire them.¡± Strepitus¡¯ voice had a hunger in it and if the woman had been less than she was that hunger might have frightened her.


    The mage¡¯s piercing blue eyes met the fae¡¯s golden orbs of fire.


    ¡°Would you like to go home?¡±


    ?


    Meanwhile, downstairs Serena too was having a good time. It had taken some courage, but she had approached a group of young men and women who had been speaking in English. She had introduced herself as just Serena, her uncle¡¯s warning ringing in her mind.


    ¡°There are plenty of people on either side that want you dead, simply because you carry the Cairn name.¡±


    But the other young people hadn¡¯t cared what she called herself. They had only been interested in one thing, what kind of mage she was. So, she had told them that she was a light mage and proceeded to set up a light show that put the light jockey to shame. After that they had given her a drink and a seat and they had started talking.


    The group consisted out of two guys and three girls, but it was clear that a dude named Byrne was in charge. He was striking, with his big muscles, quick jokes and an openness which was refreshing. He wasn¡¯t in Aram¡¯s league of course, but the whole thing wasn¡¯t a competition. He and two of the girls were in the apprentice programme. Byrne, Katy and Julia, who went by Jules, were the core of the group.


    The vibe Serena got from them was that they were the more rebellious types. ¡°Yeah, we heard there was a party in Paris, so we thought fuck it let¡¯s live it up a little. The teleportation spell nearly went tits up, but Brimstone pulled us through, didn¡¯t you?¡± Byrne poked the guy he had called Brimstone, who so far had remained silent.


    ¡°If you had your way we would have landed in the air, and last time I checked your momentum stopping spells are none-existent.¡± Brimstone sneered, but there was a smile hidden in there.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind Brimstone, he takes the whole dark apprentice thing a little too serious.¡± Jules said, grinning.


    ¡°What kind of name is Brimstone?¡± Serena asked, her lips set in a mocking smile. Brimstone seemed to swell up in indignance.


    ¡°I will have you know that the name Brimstone has been a respected one within both the light and dark mage communities for over five centuries.¡± He said pompously.


    ¡°But in the past century the family has fallen on hard times. His great, great, great grandfather has been holding the reigns, waiting for a new heir to rise, but before Manfred here popped up, they didn¡¯t get any.¡± Byrne interceded.


    ¡°Manfred?¡± Serena asked and Brimstone discoloured. ¡°I see why you went with Brimstone.¡± She said after a few seconds, in as neutral way as possible.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see the problem.¡± The third girl said. ¡°I think Manfred is a nice name, very unique, very exotic.¡± The girl had a foreign accent which Serena placed somewhere in South-East Asia. She shook Serena¡¯s hand. ¡°My name Saoh Ling, you can call me Sa or Ling, my master and I are in Europe for business.¡±


    ¡°So, Serena what brings you here?¡±

 Announcement

    Hello readers (those who are still here),


    The lack of chapters has been caused by the increasing workload the university has assigned to me. I was working on several projects, one of which is my master thesis, and that has unfortnuately taken up a lot of my time. I''m currently finishing most of those projects (unfortunately not the thesis since it has to be 18.000 words backed up by research and evidence) and hope to get back to writing soon. I should have put this announcement out earlier, but somewhere I kept thinking that I would get writing done today or tomorrow. The series will thus be on hiatus until I find the time and energy ow rite again.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Cheers,


    -Verus