But first, I needed to take the kiddos to the doctor for a checkup.

Not that I wanted to, mind you. Hospitals weren’t exactly my idea of a good time—magical or otherwise. But I figured breaking the rules in a place filled with beings powerful enough to rearrange my molecular structure wasn’t a smart move. At least, not yet.

So, with a sigh, I let the crystalline elevator whisk us down to the central chamber of the Great Hall, where it all started. My feline escort—er, familiar, I corrected myself—waited patiently, her tail swishing in that distinctly irritated “I’m over this” way cats have mastered. She led me through the labyrinthine paths of the University, her pace brisk, her demeanor saying loud and clear: Let’s get this over with.

Eventually, we arrived at the quarantine facility.

If you’d told me a week ago that I’d be escorting a flaming phoenix and a sentient void-dragonet into what looked like the Hogwarts ICU, I’d have laughed in your face. Yet here I was, standing in the shadow of a building that looked more like a magical fortress than any clinic I’d ever seen.

The quarantine department loomed ahead, sleek and modern with glowing sigils etched into its surface. The air around it hummed faintly, carrying the subtle pulse of magic. As I approached, a massive pair of double doors slid open with a whisper, and the sheer scale of the place hit me like a freight train.

I’d expected a dingy outpatient office, maybe some standard sterile walls and a grumpy receptionist armed with a clipboard. Or, at best, a polished prison vibe—a place that looked clean but felt oppressive. What I got instead was something completely different.

The crystalline walls shimmered with swirling patterns, like someone had bottled a nebula and poured it into the architecture. The floor seemed to glow faintly, reflecting the faint luminescence of sigils carved into every available surface. My Sight picked up intricate threads of magic interwoven throughout the structure, humming with intent and precision.

And the inside? Chaos. Organized, immaculate chaos.

The lobby sprawled out before me, a bustling hive of activity filled with patients and creatures that defied classification. Netty and Nyx shifted uneasily on my shoulders, their claws digging into my jacket as their unease buzzed through the bond we shared. I couldn’t blame them. Hospitals, magical or not, had a way of making your skin crawl.

Rows of patients filled the space, and they weren’t just your standard humanoids. To my left, a minotaur sat nursing a broken horn and sipping something glowy out of a massive enchanted tankard. Whatever it was, it steamed faintly, and he cradled it like a lifeline.

Nearby, a scaly quadruped barked at an attendant struggling to keep it restrained with a glowing energy leash. Across the room, a centaur with a missing hoof argued loudly with a nurse over what sounded like magical insurance claims, while a literal walking shrubbery gestured frantically at another attendant, leaves rustling with indignation.

The main ward -or whatever you’d call it- felt more like a bizarre mashup of a zoo, a clinic, and an immigrations office. The only thing missing was the fluorescent lighting and the soul-crushing despair.

“Where’d she go?” I muttered, realizing my feline guide had vanished. Figures. Cats, magical or not, weren’t exactly known for sticking around after their job was done.

I scanned the room, trying to locate my next step, but the sheer number of patients and attendants milling about made it hard to focus. My Sight was no help either -everyone glowed with overlapping auras and enchantments, and it was like staring at a kaleidoscope on when tripping on sleep deprivation.

Still, I had to admit, the place was spotless. Hospitals always gave off the same temple-to-bureaucracy vibe -just like DMVs, post offices, you name it- but at least this one had a magical polish. Everything gleamed, from the marble floors to the glowing sigils etched into the walls, and the faint scent of something herbal hung in the air, like someone had swapped antiseptic for magical potpourri.

I adjusted my grip on Netty as she growled softly in my ear. “Yeah, I don’t like it either,” I muttered. “But rules are rules, and if we’re gonna survive this place, we play nice. For now.”

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Nyx flared briefly, his feathers puffing with indignation, and I sighed. “I get it, buddy. Trust me. The faster we get out of here, the better.”

I straightened my shoulders and stepped further into the chaos, determined to figure out where exactly I was supposed to go. Hopefully, this wouldn’t take all day.

∞

Finally I located the one wing of the facility that had a sign above it reading “Veterinary Ward” -except I could tell it wasn’t for dogs or cats. This place was for familiars, magical beasts, and things so bizarre they probably didn’t have names.

This place wasn’t just a university infirmary. It was a full-blown magical ER on steroids.

When the main desk came into view, Netty and Nyx stirred on my shoulders, their claws digging into my jacket. “Relax,” I murmured. “It’s not like I’m dropping you off at a kennel.”

Netty growled softly, and Nyx puffed up, flames licking around the edges of his feathers. Great. I had to look like some deranged bird guy about to surrender his exotic pets. Just call me Mr. Exotic, the Raptor King.

I approached the desk, where a nurse was engrossed in some glowing charts that hovered in midair. She looked… well, like a pixie. And not the Tinker Bell kind. She was large, human sized though on the smaller size. She had iridescent skin shimmered like liquid moonlight, and dragonfly-like wings that caught the glow of the magitek lamps overhead.

Despite her small frame, she looked like she could take down a rhino. She was a Fae’ri, no doubt about it. But she was not some goody goody pixie duster. No, her expression screamed, “I do not have time for your nonsense.” And I did not want to try her patience.

“Welcome to the Quarantine Department,” she said, not even bothering to look up from her floating clipboard. “Name and purpose?”

“Excuse me,” I said, flashing what I hoped was a winning smile. “I’m here to check these two in.”

She didn’t even look up. “I said, name and purpose.”

“Declan Mor,” I said, keeping the grin plastered to my face. Kill them with kindness, that’s what my mom always said. “I’m here to check in my companions -Netty and Nyx.”

Her gaze flicked up, sharp and calculating. “Vampire, huh?” She didn’t seem particularly impressed, though she didn’t seem exactly hostile either.

“Yeah, it’s my first time,” I said, leaning casually on the counter. “New arrival. Big fan of your… glowing clipboard thing.”

She arched a brow, clearly unimpressed with my attempt at small talk. “One moment.”

But then her huge, glittering eye landed on Netty and Nyx, and her entire demeanor shifted like someone had flipped a switch.

“Oh sweet stars! Are those your familiars?” Her tone snapped from frosty to sugar-coated in half a second.” Her wings fluttered, and she practically vaulted over the desk. “Look at these precious little darlings!” She clapped her hands together, her tone rising by at least two octaves.

“What did you said their names were again?” She asked excitedly.

“Netty is the drake, and Nyx, the phoenix,” I responded nonplussed.

Her eyes widened as if I’d just recited the winning lottery numbers. “Beautiful names too, for such beautiful companions,” she gushed, her attention finally drifting back to me.

Her wings fluttered as she reached out, her voice dripping with a kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for puppy videos.

“Oh, my goodness! Netty, is it? And Nyx? Oh, aren’t you just the cutest things I’ve ever seen! It’s so nice to meet you!” she exclaimed.

Netty stared at her like she’d lost her mind, while Nyx tilted his head, flames flickering uncertainly.

“Uh,” I said, unsure whether to laugh or back away slowly. “Yeah. Cute. That’s them.”

She turned back to me, her expression softening for the first time. “You must be such a good guardian to these two. They’re in wonderful condition.”

I blinked. “Uh, thanks. I try?”

Netty hissed softly, while Nyx puffed up like a flame ready to ignite. I held up a hand. “Careful. They’re, uh, still getting used to people.”

She withdrew, undeterred, still cooing at them. “Of course, of course. Such unique little darlings.”

Her warmth didn’t waver as she scanned them into the system. “The entire process is rather simple -and harmless- Mr. Mor. You have my word.”

Her attitude had shifted completely. Gone was the no-nonsense nurse; in her place was someone offering a refreshment tray and a warm smile. “I’ll personally take great care of them, don’t you worry. And if there’s anything else you need…”

“Actually, yeah,” I said. “I’m new here, and the Director gave me free rein to explore. Any suggestions on where to start?”

Her wings fluttered again, and she leaned in slightly. “Oh, absolutely. The Orientation Hall is your first stop. You’ll want to get your Halo. Trust me, it’s essential.”

“Halo?”

She giggled, and for a moment, I wondered if her wings were vibrating from amusement or some kind of magical resonance. “Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know yet.” She held up the tablet device she was using in example. “It’s a magitek device -very handy. Makes everything easier. And after that, you must try the cafeteria. Best magical fusion cuisine you’ll ever taste.”

“Sounds good. Thanks.” I offered a nod -filing the advice away. “I’ll check back in when they’re done.”

She gave me a flirty smile, her wings fluttering ever so slightly. “I’ll look forward to it.”

The sudden shift in her attitude was baffling but welcome. I’d been worried it was the whole vampire thing making people uneasy, but apparently, having adorable familiars bought you a lot of goodwill.