The school office was too full. The cage-like window and oppressive grey walls felt constricted enough when alone with a teacher, but an additional two cops and a forest ranger was absolutely cloying. Karen shoved her chair back restlessly, only to earn a wary look. Of course, they were scared.
As they should be, she decided, straightening her winter skirt. They’d interrupted a griffin’s lunch for this farce. Perhaps she ought to switch her eyes, just to glare all the more fiercely? But no, she’d worked hard this week to shift fully human each morning, and they weren’t worth breaking her streak.
“Not long now, Karen,” Officer Danton gave one of those half smiles, half sighs, as if bored of the paperwork he subjected her to. “Just running down the summary here- you’d been visiting your Grandma, ate at the Bark-An’-Cue on the N57, then got to fly back from there to Ranelk. You stopped on Mount Kettle, encountered Charles and Shona, they mentioned this figure, and then you resumed your flight. Is that a fair summation?”
“Yup.” She popped her lips on the last syllable. “Happy?”
“Were you lost?” The dark skinned Ranger croaked, “That’s… not the right route. You flew south from the road-stop, before twisting back around?”
His hoarse tone carried an uncertain accusation, and Karen rolled her eyes. “It looked like a fun warm up. Just wanted to explore a little, hadn’t flown around there before.”
“So there wasn’t anything that drew you to it? Any, uh… specks or… scents of food?” The Vice Principal, Mrs Kelly leaned over the desk with a shrug. “You can let us know, Karen, you’re not in trouble.”
“Nah, it was just a mountain… uh, it had snow. I’d not sat on snow before.” She inched back, fists balled inside her sweater sleeves. “Just a whim.”
The adults exchanged looks, doubt and wariness warring on their faces, too old and boring to comprehend whimsy. Then Danton twirled his folder of paper work around, “Alright, well, almost done. Just check this statement, and sign if it’s all in order?”
His handwriting was terrible. Karen scanned a sentence, barely recognized her own name amidst the scrawlings, and scribbled down a signature on the field. “Happy?”
“That’s all I need.” Danton stood with an easy smile, offering a hand, “Remember, you can come to us on your own time, right? Means we don’t need to chase you down like this.”
“Yeah, just been busy.” She swept up her bag, and nobody stopped her from leaving the room, so she did. It was still lunchtime, students crowded the halls of Ranelk High, but perhaps she could grab a few minutes out in the free air before the nex-
BRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGG!
The bell’s banshee shriek cut her steps short. Karen wavered, shoulders tight, balance wobbling. Maybe she could pretend to be sick? No, she wanted to fly, sick griffins didn’t fly. She grimaced, punched her thigh, before stomping up towards english class.
Stomping was the best way to get around school. As long as she carried a simulacrum of her griffin self, stalked forward as if able to barrel over anyone in her way, bipeds got the idea and kept out of her way. Only a few morons had stumbled into her recently, and each earned a hiss fierce enough that they didn’t do so again. Maybe Maddie would object to scaring them, but if they were already scared, might as well make the most of it.
The only ones it didn’t really work on were familiar faces, like all the other juniors in Mrs Conelly’s class. Mark and Iain, Irene and Emily. Maddie. Karen averted her gaze from the blonde with a snort, mustering up a little more of that presence, before sidling to her desk at the far back. For once it was half occupied, and Hana’s doeful eyes peered at her between long dark hair.
“Yo Hana. It’s me, Karen.” She muttered.
“Yeah. I could tell. That face suits you.” Hana folded her arms and glanced away, posture tense and tight.
“You okay?” Karen sat, dropping her voice low, “You’ve… not been in, much, since… uh, Halloween, right?”
“I had homeschool. I’m fine.” The other mystic insisted. Karen weighed the familiar tone, one she’d used plenty of times herself. After all, Fei had been at school, so why would Hana be homeschooled and her foster-sister not be? Like Ollie and herself, she supposed.
“Alright. Lemme know if you need help catching up and I’ll… refer you to someone with better notes.” She paused, then lifted her voice to add, “Except that cheater, Maddie.”
It wasn’t her best. She wasn’t even sure of Irene heard, though Emily did whirl around, ready to start something. Then Maddie slipped an arm round, mischief in her eyes and muttered something about the high ground. There was probably a retort there- who needed the high ground when she could fly, maybe? No, that didn’t sound right, and the moment was gone as Mrs Conelly took the register.
“Now, new pages in your notes everyone- this will be a standalone class, but important all the same,” The old woman ordered, then pulled the old trolley-TV from the corner amidst a flurry of whispers. Were they watching a film? Had they finished material for the term? Was it going to be Romeo and Juliet? A Christmas Carol? Clockwork Orange?
“Better,” the teacher declared unconvincingly, “The news. I know some of you already have an interest in journalism, and so you’ll be writing a summary of this event, and we’ve got an expert coming in on the topic, so behave! Now, hm, the channel is… Aha.”
Jotter pages rustled as she settled on a national news channel, all scrolling text and flashy effects around a young reporter lady. She was dressed in winter gear, a too fluffy parka, before a view of the familiar lake and snow clad mountains, her fingers nearly pink as she held a microphone to a hefty blonde man with a boyish grin.
“Oi Maddie, that’s your Da!” Iain gasped.
“What, really?” Maddie snickered before Conelly shushed them.
“-so of course we’ve had this in the works for sometime, months and months,” Mayor Hugh Carpenter was in good form, his voice strong, cheeks rosy in the chill. “There’s simply so much we don’t know about the world, and we’ve got people who all know leaps and bounds of secrets. So of course, rather than cities, it’s best to let folk research alongside the lovely mystic population, and capitalise on their experience and skills!”
“I see,” The reporter smiled too widely. “And how have you found an Anomalous Settlement Area affecting your town? Reportedly there have been incidents, even cases of arson and a fatality?”
Hugh’s breath was a cloud of steam, and he removed his glasses, wiping them clean. “That’s true. There’s been difficulties, everyone has been affected, in big or small ways. But we’re a resilient community, and I’ve been… so proud of our home to work together, to welcome new arrivals, and to handle the pitfalls and challenges along this road.”
“That’s inspiring, truly,” The lady lied, “Aren’t you concerned about some ill feelings and views of the constituents of your lovely town? Some might suggest that the funds for this research could go to other aspects of Ranelk like old museums or the mines?”
“Hooo, gosh, I hope not,” Hugh almost gasped, “For sure, Ranelk isn’t a big place, and we’ve seen industries and attractions come and go. Some thrive, stick around, while a few have… fallen through, because of our location, weather or business, without much we could do to help. But the federal funds for the research are clearly allocated, for getting bright minds interested in this magical malarky, it’s impossible to push them into other aspects, even related ones like RASA. However, I am truly hopefully that all the increased footfall and purpose will see more business for our local family, and maybe even give those old projects a second chance if all goes well.”
The girl wasn’t expecting the intelligence from this nowhere mayor. Karen found her lips twitching a little at her fluttering confused eyes, before someone clearly squawked something in her ear.
“And do you know what kind of work will be going on with the Ranelk Anomalous Research Centre? Are you at all worried about the effects on your pristine location?”
“Oh, I could scarcely guess, but I’d be a huge fan of teleportation if they could crack that chestnut, get to nip over to the east coast without a long plane ride for a cheeky visit. Perhaps less exciting, but who knows- healing, regeneration, telekinesis- bah, it’s magic, even those are absolutely wondrous concepts to imagine becoming safe and accessible.” He beamed.
“...and what about this facility's effects on your location?” She prompted again, “Any worries?”
“Hmm, well if they could approach some more rustic sensibilities, I suppose that’d be preferable to a, you know, one of those big glass sky scrapers would stick out quite a lot wouldn’t it? Ah, environmentally? The Idaho Park Rangers have done a jolly good job handling the parks here all the years I’ve known it, so I doubt they’d stop paying attention now.”
“Well. Thankyou very much, Mayor Hugh Carpenter here, with the next stage of their Ranelk Anomalous Settlement Area, focussing on exploring and discovering these anomalies and their uses. Back to you in the studio, Jen-”
Conelly flicked the screen off, just as riotous applause erupted at the back of the classroom, behind even the back desks. Karen recoiled, chair clattering as she twisted around, her panicked reaction drawing all eyes to the stranger.
He didn’t belong.
He was old, older than even Mrs Conelly. At least seventy years of wrinkles and creases weathered his olive skin, and his cloudy beard was bone white. Only his eyebrows held any pigment, black and bristly above equally black eyes. Despite the December weather, his old suit was neat and dry, his black boots without a speck of grime, and a polished walking stick leaned against the window sill beside him.
“Miss Thomson, sit down!” Mrs Conelly barked. “Ah, welcome our guest, please, he’ll be taking the rest of the period, so behave yourselves.”
Karen warily rose off of all fours, the hairs on her neck refusing to settle down. Half the class was staring at her, as if an old man hadn’t just appeared out of thin air- what, did they think he’d walked in while they were looking at the TV? Been there the whole time!? At least Logan had an appropriately stressed expression on his lean face, albeit more of disgust than of shock.
“Aaaah, my thanks. I did not wish to distract from history in the making!” The old man’s voice creaked as he stood, but held enough volume to fill the room. His stick thudded with each footstep, punctuating measured words. “For we are not being hyperbolic. This has been quite a year for you all, I am sure, but this marks a greater step. The mystical exists. The mystical is seen. And here, in this place, the mystical shall be explored, discovered and mastered.”
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He reached the front, and held onto the TV as he manoeuvred to face them, “My name is Professor Ethan Fazzio, and I have spent more years than all your lives together, unravelling and understanding this world. Simply put, I am a wizard.”
A final thud, that of Logan’s head meeting his desk, punctuated the silence.
“Hmm, any questions?”
Grant raised a hand, pen scribbling already, “Uh, does that make you a human or a mystic, sir?”
“Biologically? Born human. Though like Mystics, I’ve unfortunately spent much of my life unable to share my expertise openly- honestly, I am quite enjoying introducing myself as Professor after all of these years.” His moustache exposed a yellow smile, “Of course, there shall be others, wizard, mystic and otherwise, arriving in the next couple months to work in… ah, did anyone catch the name?”
“Ranelk Anomalous Research Centre?” Emily read from her notes “I guess if the camp’s RASA, then this is… RARC?”
“Aw, a word even Karen can say.” Irene whispered.
“Correct. Personally I’m going to pretend the A stands for Arcane- they say it sounds too magical, I say they’re hiring wizards, witches, mages and such, it should sound magical!” The Professor barked.
“What’s the difference?” Olive yawned, leaning her cheek on one scaled hand.
“Now that, that is a good question!” He nodded, pacing to scrawl on the blackboard, “Anomalous- what does that mean? It means to be abnormal. To deviate from a standard. As if the usual rules do not apply- which is WRONG!”
His walking stick drummed off the floor as he whirled around, “The same rules have always been in effect! Did physics not function before man knew of the atom?! Did medicine not work before we understood the cell!? Nonsense! Aware or not, the rules remain, and the laws of magic have reigned over all our lives and ancestors' lives for time immemorial! It is not anomalous.”
He breathed, leaning forward, dark eyes flickering across them. “Arcane, our alternate A-, means mysterious, requiring secret knowledge to understand. More fitting, no? And it is my mission here to pass on that knowledge so that any of you who wish to take an interest, may do so. But…. aaah, enough of an old man’s ranting- please, a show of hands, who here knows something of magic already? Beyond just drinking veil.”
A half dozen rose, Logan’s forced skywards by Emily as the Professor nodded. “Yes, yes, I heard this class was something of a treasure trove. You, miss, what is your experience?”
“Well,” Irene beamed, “I’ve always, like, known the supernatural was out there, just hidden, you know? From a young age I’ve been able to tell stuff about people without really knowing how, just from their energy, and then since this year I’ve learned to harness my ability a little more and understand the flow and bonds between everything. I’m excited to learn from a proper sage, I’ve been trying to teach the class myself but… I think it’s just too much of a gift for them to really get, you know?”
Karen half retched, then found the dark eyes focussed on her, and straightened. “I’m a sorceress. I can turn human perfectly. As you can see.”
“Very good. You, miss, beside her?”
“Uh, a little sorcery.” Hana echoed.
“And the unwilling young man?”
Logan grimaced, slipping free of Emily’s grasp. “Urgh, I’m a mage.”
“His whole family is!” Emily cheered.
“Right- and you, young gorgon?”
Olive cocked her head, snakes shifted across her face, “You said Veil doesn’t count.”
“You have eyes don’t you?” He challenged, “Yes? Well then, your innate magic makes you a sorceress, like the other young mystic ladies. And… you young man?”
Mark grinned, “Bard, fifth level.”
“Hmm, always preferred a paladin myself.” The professor chuckled as Karen’s head whipped back and forth. Since when did Olive, Hana or Mark know magic?! Had the Siren taught others? Or the Professor already? The old man wasn’t right, he’d appeared without any footsteps, was he a spirit too? Why the smiling with Mark? And how did Olive’s eyes count as sorcery, that wasn’t fair, she just had those since birth. How was that comparable to the power Karen had grappled through blood, sweat and tears?!
“Now, eyes this way. As you can see, the arcane is a broad category, but is not as impenetrable as you may fear.” The loud croon of the Professor pulled her attention back “We’ll take a quick quiz for now, multiple choice, so do not confer with your neighbour- even the experienced ones may not have the knowledge you seek. You have fifteen minutes, and your time starts now.”
The unspoken complaint that they didn’t have quiz sheets died as the old man twirled his walking stick,and batted a wad of papers off the teacher’s desk. They rustled through the class like a snowstorm, some fast, some wayward and slow, only to alight perfectly on each desk amidst whispers, gasps, and one loud groan.
Karen snatched hers up and turned it over, sniffing for any scent of dragon blood or metal. Had he not used any blood or reagents? Just his own power? Or was moving paper around just much easier than shapeshifting and veil potions? Yet there was nothing but questions, and she peered back at the stranger, as if he could turn to pigeons or vanish at any moment.
“Tick tock.” His dark eyes met hers, and a withered finger tapped his watch, before Fazzio limped over to sit heavily in Conelly’s chair, muttering to the teacher in low tones. Somehow that set her breath at ease- he had weakness. Flesh was flesh- she had handled Matt before and she could handle Ethan Fazzio.
She wasn’t sure if she could handle the quiz. The questions were scarcely anything alike Diana and Sera’s lessons, veering from science to nonsense to literature without rhyme or reason.
How many elements made up the world- four, nine, a hundred and twenty one, or infinite? How much magic did the average human possess? What was the best font size for arcane sigils? What factors affected the leylines around Ranelk? What species are functionally ageless? What?!
Karen scoured both sides, before her eyes snapped to a term she recognized- Ptolemaic Equilibrium. That was actual knowledge- not karma or star signs, but the balancing of spells. She’d get it right at least. And the role of speech in magic- presumably to focus, like her charm or how Logan and Matt operated.
The rest were a struggle, she ticked off her best guesses, erased a couple, then guessed again until time ran out. The Professor ordered them to shuffle, swap and swap again, until Karen found herself staring at a clear vertical line of only C answers, scrawled by Iain in clear confusion. At least this was one subject she wouldn’t come last in.
That question one was answered C was just pure luck. And question two. And question five. Just luck.
“... and lastly, question twenty, in which modern day country did the practice of alchemy first originate? The answer is C, Turkey.” The Professor finished, cleared his throat, and gave a sympathetic look around. “As you can see, is not easy as abra-ka-dabra, but if you learn anything today, let it be this- the arcane is as broad a world as science is, for it is not separate. There are many avenues, many paths. But, out of interest, how did we do? Anyone above ten?”
“Uh, Irene got a solid eleven.” Grant rumbled, passing the paper over.
Karen broke. She felt the giggles shake her frame, fist hitting her desk as she clutched the paper and passed it to Hana, mirth choking her throat.
“Iain got… are you… what?” The girl gasped, checked against her paper, and wheezed, “He got thirteen.”
The pale boy froze, a sceptical grin below wide eyes. “Wha- huh? How?”
“Magic, clearly. You’re a natural.” Mark scoffed, voice with sarcasm, “All hail the archmage Iain!”
“Do you turn human every morning too?” Maddie giggled.
“Wha- no, he doesn’t… what?” Irene seemed to handle the news worst, hopping up to her full lean height, “Hey, let me see, they’re probably lying!”
“What’s the matter, did his aura not say that?” Karen choked, passing the sheet quickly over, “Or maybe you’re just not that special?”
A delicious look of fury crossed the blonde’s face, so stock still she might as well have been paralysed. Then a low, hissing breath escaped as she clawed back composure, “Congratulations, Iain, I know you’d make an excellent wizard. I’m happy to help you study if you’d like.”
“Actually, that is my main purpose here, but your enthusiasm is appreciated,” Professor Fazzio climbed back to his feet, gesturing for them to sit, “From next term, I shall be teaching Arcane Fundamentals, under some incorrect, more PG subject name, here at your school. I expect to see those of you who did well there, but any of you are welcome to join us, to widen your horizons, and perhaps pick up some practical knowledge.”
“Practical,” Logan scoffed.
“Now, does anyone have any questions before we run out of time? I’d rather not get into over-deep subjects, but-” He was cut off by Mark asking how long he’d grown his beard out, then Maddie of how he found the town, Irene about his aura, and quickly more.
Karen half listened, her attention wandering towards a pigeon outside the window, and older harder questions. Would he know anything of the Butcher? Or the names her grandmother had uttered- Boreas, Mask, Garuda? He seemed like a scholar, but her hackles were still up and Irene at least would hear. Besides, Seraphina was a hundred times better than some crusty old fossil. She didn’t need to risk the plan here.
* * * *
The thuds of his walking stick against the corridor’s linoleum vanished as the bell rang yet again. Karen raced to the doorway and peered out, left and right, but the long hallway held no signs of the wizard, only teenagers bustling and moving. He had disappeared. Had he even been here, or was it like a ghost?
Karen hopped back to grab her bag, glancing curiously across her classmates, before jogging after the gorgon girl.
“Hey, Olive, wait up!”
“Whaaaaaat?” Olive sighed, palms spread placatingly, “Look, I didn’t call myself a sorceress. I don’t care about magic, you don’t need to get all territorial about it.”
“I’m not terri- I don’t care about that. Question- can you see from your snakes?”
“Huh. Yeah, in a way. Like surround peripheral vision. Whyyy?”
“I figure you’re the most likely to have seen- after me, at least.” Karen stepped beside the taller girl, voice low, “Did you see where he came from? Professor Fossi…Fuzzy… whatever?”
“Ooh, Fossil works, he’s ancient.” Olive smirked, her serpents shifting and stirring as the halls began to fill with noise. “But, I don’t know, he wasn’t there in the room, then he was. What’s the big deal? He’s a mage, he probably just teleported or some bullshit?”
“Not a mage.” A gruff low voice came behind them.
“Witch, warlock, whatever, Logan. Gods, you’re all so damn picky,” She sneered back at him.
“Did you see where he came from?” Karen yanked him forward by the bag, out of her blindspot, “Or what magic he used?”
“No- but he didn’t freaking teleport, probably just silenced his steps or muffled himself. Some kind of parlour trick like that.” He grimaced, “And yeah, I told you, I’m not a wizard, and that fossil isn’t a mage.”
“Alright, continue, tell us why, I can see you’ve been cooking a rant all class.”
“Thankyou- so, for an example of magecraft, you like Veil?”
Olive arched an eyebrow, snakes hissing, “What does it look like?”
“Me neither. Sorcery.” Karen bragged, earning a slight jostle.
“You two are the worst audience for this- but you’ve both used it, right? Because magecraft is actually useful.” He began, “And, to be fair, sorcery’s great, but it’s like athletics, and witchcraft is more… hmm, artistic, I guess. While magecraft is like engineering. Solid, reliable, find problems, address them, work it all out.”
“Soooo wizards are, what, scientists?”
“No, worse.” He grimaced, “Philosophers. They’re the humans who got in the know about the mystical, and went- you know what? Who fucking cares about mystics and communities and problems? Let’s just obsess over details too broad or minor to ever actually matter, fund a bunch of hunters, and suck off society like an erudite leech. And now that Emergence is settled, all the hard work’s done, they crawl out of the woodwork to claim credit for hoarding knowledge instead of ever taking a side.”
A few passers-by glanced their way, and Karen glowered at them, stomping up the stairs after him. “So that quiz was just bullshit?”
“Pretty much. Asking where alchemy was invented is like asking where swords were invented. Newsflash, people all over the world like mixing stuff, frying dough, and pointy sticks, even isolated cultures.”
“Shame multiple choice doesn’t let you write an essay for each question- oh, how’d you do by the way? I guess we know you didn’t make the top three.” Olive taunted, darting up past with him a fanged smile. “Oooh, what if Karen beat you?”
“Then I can sleep safer.” He scoffed, “Point is, someone that wastes magic as an umbrella or to pass out paper is in no position to teach magic. They brought in an idiot who’d use a bazooka to light a candle.”
“Ridiculous,” Karen echoed, idly wondering where her seven points actually placed her. Above average, surely? “Matt or Diana’d be better, but they’re busy… guess wizards have free schedules, huh?”
“Bingo.” He stopped with a slight smile at the top of the stairs, waiting for her to catch up. “By the way, what’s the deal with your birthday? Sunday right?”
“Yeah? I’ll be seventeen. What deal?”
“Yes, we know, you told everyone,” Olive snorted, “But what’s the plan? You having a party, or working stables,or is Emily meant to be organising a surprise party or what?”
“Is she organising one?”
“I’ve known her a tenth of the time you have, and even I could answer that question.” Logan sighed.
“True. Can you… hint her away from sunday? I’ve got plans.”
“Oooh really? Just you and a certain someone?” Olive teased.
“No- I’m going hunting. I’m getting my licence, so I can actually go and… enjoy.” She almost hopped with excitement. Only a few sleeps left until she got to taste hot fresh kills, feel her talons break bone and rend flesh.
“...right. I guess that’s romantic, for you guys.”
“For the fifth time, I told you, I ain’t dating that gorilla.” Karen snapped, “He’s got no taste anyway.”
“What about the cute senior griffin? He’s been asking about you, you know.” Olive smirked. “Right?”
“Can confirm. Wanted your address.” Logan reported dourly.
“Wha- he got it? Argh, no, not that- not him,” Karen bit her tongue. It wasn’t fair to snap about him being flightless to others. But why her address? What if he dropped off his kills as if she was a cub? It was hard to turn down free food, but that would just be ridiculous. “Maybe I’m just not interested, huh? Is it that crazy for me to just be single?”
“Not really,” Logan chuckled, turning left, “You’ve been scaring quite a few people.”
“Yeah it’s weird.” Olive stopped, leaning down to her slightly, “C’mon, you’re an egomaniac with options, and I can tell you’re not ace. Try stuff out, have fun, at the very least it’d help you move on.”
Something in the motion froze her, and Karen wondered if she was paralyzed. But the gorgon’s glasses stayed on, the subject was just… baffling, and she loomed over her this close, like her guard aunt. “What? What do you care? Move on? I… what, how would you even tell?”
“Snake eyes, remember?” Olive cackled, “You’re tomato red to me. And.. I don’t want you getting pissed because someone poached your interest while you were stomping around. I’m sure there’s plenty who’d be happy to date him, mystic or no.”
“Like you, you mean?” Karen scoffed, shoving past to get distance, “Feel free- he’s my species, not my type. I don’t give a shit what he does, but just heads up that whatever charm he pulled is just a mask.”
So saying, she stomped past, following Logan into the classroom of drawing boards and the graphics teacher whose name she didn’t know. Then she frowned, and walked out.
“This isn’t my class.”
“Yeah, I was wondering when you’d remember that.” Logan snorted, “I think you might be in music.”
He was wrong, but by this point she didn’t have time to argue, and broke off sprinting through the halls.