When Klavdiya's youngsters came, Magus Kumiko was ready to go. After everything was prepared, her grandmother called their researcher out of courtesy.
"I am having Kumiko nourish Gwen," Klavdiya informed her friend and colleague, her statement short and abrupt.
"Of course, we all want what's best for her." Magister Wen's reply came after a few minutes. "I am in a meeting. Do you need me to observe? I can be there in an hour."
"No need, we'll take care of it." Klavdiya's tone lost some of its tension. "Thanks, Marie."
As Gwen was too exhausted to move, Petra expended a cube of Enhanced Strength, then effortlessly princess-carried Gwen, sweatpants and all, down the levitation platform. The parade drew amused and curious looks as they moved, trailed by a mewing ferret and a Death Worm herald.
It was after they arrived inside the training hall with her reddening like a beetroot from head to toe that Petra finally allowed Gwen to stand.
"That was entirely unnecessary." Gwen was still a bit woozy.
"If you eat all that junk again and have another episode, I'll do that again," Petra promised mirthfully yet entirely seriously. "I am taking Babulya's advice to heart. Fair warning, Cousin. Hope you like your lightly salted meat and vegetables."
Gwen groaned. It wasn't as though she had intended to OD on street food. Bloody oath, she still had a Beggar Chicken in her ring!
"Walls of Force are in place," Magus Kumiko notified them helpfully. "We can begin anytime."
"Gwen?"
"Babulya, can you give me a pick-me-up before I feed Caliban?"
Indeed, if she was sufficiently diminished, the vital cost of Consumption might wipe her out before Caliban could be empowered.
Gladly, her babulya provided the extra shot of Positive Energy.
On the far side, Magus Kumiko called out incantations quickly, filling the Force Cube with a flaring burst of silvery Conjuration. When the light solidified, the gathered Mages stared at a befuddled Wildland boar.
Caliban audaciously rubbed up against the invisible panes of the wall, causing the boar to go berserk. It rushed the Wall of Force and struck the pane with enough force to split its nose and break off a tusk, sending a splatter of dried mud against the surface.
Cunning worm, Gwen thought.
"Caliban!"
Gwen re-summoned Caliban inside the Force Cube, giving it the command to assume the Gila form.
In the next moment, Caliban teleported in as a giant nine-foot-tall bipedal Gila, its skin dark and tenebrous and its foreclaws each ten inches long. When Gwen readied herself for the backlash, she found that her vitality had not diminished, not even by a single mote.
Caliban's internal stores! She recalled what Magister Wen had pointed out during their first session with those two men from the PLA and the Pudong Tower. Caliban could store excess vitality as Void-matter within itself. Did this mean it no longer used her life force as a battery?
A sudden bout of action disrupted her inquisitiveness.
With neither her explicit instruction nor command, Caliban launched toward the cowering boar. With a single swipe, it tore inch-wide gashes across the boar's mud-caked hide, splattering the panes with fresh arterial gouts of vermilion.
Incensed by the injury, the boar became enraged, entirely ignoring its flesh wound. It dug in its heels and charged, trying to cannonball Caliban with its heaving mass. Caliban waited until the last moment to suddenly frog leap, urged by Gwen's rather purposeless outcry of "Dodge it!". As it sailed over the charging beast, its limbs impossibly twisted as though they possessed no cartilage, then dug into the spinal ridges atop the mud-covered swine. When the boar further attempted to dash Caliban against the floor, Gwen's creature landed, tearing out a chunk of flesh from the swine's neck so large as to make the audience wince.
A torrent of thick blood poured from the creature, sending it crashing against the further wall, leaving a bloody skid mark several meters long.
"Shaa-Shaa!"
Caliban roared once or twice, then opened its maw impossibly wide.
Even as the oinking creature defecated in terror, Caliban's contracting tentacles crammed the boar headfirst into its open mouth, swallowing the swine wholesale.
[https://imgur.com/Ys9pKEb.jpg]
"Bravo!" Magus Kumiko applauded her.
Gwen stared slack-jawed and sick to her core at her Familiar.
What-the-shit? Her mind reeled and spun, a thousand and one paranoias playing across her standing hair follicles. She had not given Caliban a single command! Of its own free will, it had executed an Onslaught and then finished off the boar with a Consume. The whole time, she hadn't given it authority. She hadn't! She was thinking it, but no explicit instruction had issued from her lips! What did that mean? Did Caliban feel no need to obey her if she was no longer its battery? She felt like a jilted bride!
Cali's autonomy was a serious thing. A freelance Caliban was more dangerous—
Her mind grew blank.
A wave of ecstasy struck Gwen's depleted body. The rain after a prolonged drought. The vitality from a tier 3 Tusker-Charger was nothing compared to Nephres Zalaam, but it was palpable. She held on, riding the wave of delight without being swallowed by the sensation. The euphoria came and went after several heartbeats, allowing her to gather her wits.
"Caliban, return!" she commanded, expecting the worst.
To her complete and utter surprise—Caliban came bounding back like a nightmarish labrador retriever, its goofy toad face sagging as its jowls drooled.
As it approached, it even turned back into its docile serpent form.
Caliban coiled itself against the barrier, purring, happy that its stomach had experienced nourishment so soon.
"How do you feel now?" her babulya asked, watching Gwen's face flush with colour.
In her reflection against the Wall of Force, Gwen saw that her hazel eyes reclaimed their lustre. Her dermis was once more tender and soft, her hair glossy and dynamic. From a wilting anaemic, she had taken on the likeness of one in the bloom of youth.
“Once a week,” Klavdiya notified Magus Kumiko.
"Hai, once a week." The Magus bowed reflexively toward the Senior Director.
"No more diets," Klavdiya sternly informed her granddaughter. "This elastic vitality of yours, coming and going every other week, surely it can't be good for you."
Gwen was then advised to return to bed. Having lived an evil diet, Gwen could only hope that her revitalised Druidic Essence could provide the remedy she required.
For now, the rooting hog of gluttony had been put to rest.
And Gwen would forgo Economics.
As her babulya had said, "You've done enough for today."
[https://imgur.com/Ys9pKEb.jpg]
Friday.
Gwen felt well enough to attend Professor Ma's class.
Richard had returned from his quests in the Hangzhou region, happy to receive his share of HDMs and the loan of Opa's Medium Storage Ring.
The young man was ecstatic when she further informed him of the additional CCs they received from Jun.
"I'll have to thank him," Richard declared. "What do you think he would like for a gift?"
Gwen honestly had no idea. It seemed Jun knew far more about her than she did about him. Maybe on their trip together, they would get to know one another more informally as uncle and niece.
By the end of the lecture, Professor Ma issued new homework—the students must produce a 6000-word report on their experiences in the Districts, reflection on what they had learned and gained through walking and working in a place where NoMs were the norm.
Though a groan emitted from the crowd, the report was no trouble for Gwen. She could likely hammer out 'write' out the sixteen-page document in a single night.
While she was in thought, a pair of hands slid around her waist in an overtly friendly gesture. Gwen turned to see Mayuree blinking her chestnut eyes, her fake lashes meeting like two petals of a Venus Flytrap.
"Can you help me with the report?" the Diviner begged. "I foresee I will fail without your help!"
For the sake of academic conduct, Gwen knew she should have refused, but she owed Mayuree so many dinners and lunches. Sometimes, Gwen felt like an ungrateful cat, returning nightly to Mayuree's loft for watering and feeding, only to disappear after the meal. Surely a little ghostwriting could go a long way in repaying the girl's generosity. She would make sure Mayuree understood every word.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"Okay," she agreed, catching a dirty glance from Kitty. "But you're the one doing the handwriting."
"Pufft, handwriting," Mayuree scoffed, hugging her tightly. "I've got a Dancing Pen!"
[https://imgur.com/Ys9pKEb.jpg]
Mayuree laboured through her report, watched jealously by Gwen as her Dancing Pen produced flawless and florid scripts across the parchment until Lei approached.
"Gwen, there's a call for you." Lei's hand-held Message Device announced. “From an Elvia Lindholm? Your friend in London?"
"Dimension Door!"
When Mayuree looked up, Gwen was gone.
"Did she just…"
Mayuree looked around, bewildered.
Did Gwen teleport through the floor?
[https://imgur.com/Ys9pKEb.jpg]
"JESUS!" Petra jumped when Gwen appeared next to her in a flash of Conjuration mana. "Gwen! Use the Lev! It's dangerous to Dimension Door indoors!"
That much was true. There was too much clutter, and the spell wasn't exact. If Gwen had materialised into something, the shunt of her physical form to the closest displaceable point could cause significant injury. At worst, she could twist or sprain a limb from the whiplash.
"ACCEPT!" Gwen punched the Glyphs on the incoming call. "Sorry, Pats! Won't happen again!"
The illusory projection began to manifest.
Petra retreated to the kitchen to make them both a cuppa; she had recently found a vendor selling grapefruit and citrus-peel Ceylon. Elvia's projection began to move as the pleasant scent filled the living room.
The blonde girl appeared even more angelic than the last time Gwen had seen her. Against all improbability, Evee's aura could be palpably felt even across time and space.
"Gwennie!"
"Evee!"
The girls exchanged 'phantom' hugs.
"How are you? How're things? What 'mission' did you go on?"
"Oh, it was incredible! Horrible—but also incredible! How about you, Gwen?"
"I've got a story to tell," Gwen informed her erstwhile companion. "How are you doing for credits? These calls ain't cheap."
The Long-Range Messages were double charged. The Telecommunication division must be up to their necks in HDMs.
"I am doing lots of good! I've worked plenty, earned lots, and never spent the stash Alesia loaned me." Elvia familiarised Gwen with her financials, her ocean-blue eyes alive with happiness.
Petra left for the bedroom. In her words, boundaries didn't have to be pragmatic. Rather, they should be respectful.
"You go first!" Gwen adjusted the projector so she could sit without the sensors cropping off her forehead.
"Okay!" Elvia leaned in closer as well. The girls were now seated as though they were intimately sitting at a coffee table. "I told you last time that Miss Rothwell, that's Emily Rothwell of the er… Rothwell family—took me under her wing. Well, I started my work for the Student Representative Council..."
By her admission, Elvia's charmed life continued under the shelter of Emily Greyson Rothwell, the darling daughter of Lord John Rothwell, the Duke of Somerset. Having taken on the duties of secretary and personal assistant to the 'Lady Duchess' of Nightingale, she enjoyed unfettered access to the considerable resources of the third most prestigious Healer's college in Europe.
For the semester, Elvia attended classes without incident, enjoying the friendship of peers she had acquired since arriving in London. She passed her exams with flying colours with a little help from her instructors, who took pity on the fact that she had to 'suffer' through a Frontier public high school. When the time came for practicums, Elvia was assigned to the Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children, one of the most coveted placements in London.
As its namesake inferred, the fabled GOS was the premier hospital for the care of children anywhere in the world's Capital cities, with an impressive roster of 1 Meister and 9 Magister-level Clerics presiding over its Board of Directors and Department Heads.
Those who intern at GOS would graduate not only with referees—it also came with a network of connections that extended as far as the House of Lords, who sponsored the hospital.
"Wait, let me guess," Gwen tried to extrapolate what may have taken place, mindful of Elvia's prior history. "One of the Directors took a fancy to you?"
"How did you know? Are you a Diviner?" Elvia cooed, giggling with glee as Gwen returned a meek smirk. "It was Lady Astor who found me wandering around the ward! She's a Viscountess. Gwen, you should have seen her house at Cliveden! It's HUGE! I mean, it's beyond huge! There are ten bedrooms on the upper level, a French Dining room and a library with all kinds of Spells and first edition manuscripts, and there's an entire lower level for the NoM Servants, and the Butler was a Magus who cooks…"
Following ten minutes of Downton Abbey, Elvia edition, the girl finally moved on to her placement. After several weeks in the hospital serving as assistant to one Doctor or another, she was sent out with a crew to the Frontier counties to assist in repelling Demi-human invaders.
Gwen had no idea what the ethnographic makeup of England was, but from Elvia's tales of Trolls, Hobs, and the 'Träälvor'—commonly known as the Wood Elves; she guessed they had a lot of Demi-humans.
"We got to meet one of their healers! It was incredible! Amazing! Kiki took to the Druidess right away! They're so beautiful, all of them look like models. They have these incredibly cool tattoos on their faces, which turned out to be Enchantments!"
The story was quickly moving beyond Gwen's comprehension. As every minute was another HDM, she opted to nod and smile as Elvia delivered her fantastic tale. After twenty minutes of her superlative 'OOOs' and 'Ah!' Gwen could discern that Elvia served in a Field Hospital safely embedded in a Green Zone for almost a week while the benign Demi-humans, aided by the Humans, pushed back the savage Demi-humans called Fomorians.
"In the end, only two of our Mages died," Elvia announced proudly, her voice growing more distant and hollow.
"That's wonderful." Gwen cheered her on. "I am sure you did all you could."
"They were brought in too late. All we could do was ease their pain." Elvia's smile waned. "Did you know only Mages ranked Magus and above meet the criterion for deploying higher-tier healing spells in a triage centre?"
"Now I know," Gwen affirmed Elvia's jaded address. According to her lessons, reagents for advanced healing were finite, with a bottle-necked supply restricted by trade with the Wildland Elves. The exception was Faith-based healers from the Church, an extremely rare existence.
"YEEE—Kiki!"
Elvia's floral sprite made an appearance without warning. It looked sturdier than when Gwen had last seen it. With its folded leaf resending a skullcap and its white stems forming its limbs. In the future, it would make a fine Dryad.
"Shaa-shaa!" "Ee-EE!" Caliban and Ariel made themselves known.
"Kii! KI!" Kiki fell out of sight.
"It's scared of Caliban." Elvia reappeared, the petal of her mouth issuing forth a delirious string of laughter.
"Evee, I miss you and Yue so much," Gwen confessed, thinking how the girl was so close yet so far away, what she would give to give Elvia a flesh and blood hug about now.
"I miss you too, Gwen." Elvia's eyes became misty. She swallowed hard, then perked up. "Tell me about what you have done since we last talked."
"Alight, prepare yourself. My story isn't going to be nice..." Gwen delivered her recent adventure, readjusted for PG viewing.
[https://imgur.com/Ys9pKEb.jpg]
"I am sorry…" Elvia's eyes were swollen after Gwen told her the truth. "I didn't know…"
Unlike Yue, who shared a link with Alesia and Gunther, Elvia had never been privy to the depth of Gwen's depraved talent. When Gwen finally told her that she had Consumed a human being, Elvia was stunned for the duration of an HDM.
"It's okay if it's you. I know you'll do the right thing," Elvia finally managed to ingest Gwen's tale with sympathy.
Gwen then reminded Elvia about Edgar, expanded on the Ravenport ordeal, and of Elizabeth Sobel and their connection to Nephres.
"Oh! My! God!" Elvia touched four dainty fingers to her peach-hued lips. French tips, Gwen noted, life was good in Europe. "Lord Ravenport?! Mycroft Ravenport? He's a Duke in the House of Lords!"
"What do you know about him?" Gwen felt her hands clench.
"I don't know much," Elvia confessed, crestfallen. "I've only ever seen him in the papers and on vid-casts. I can ask Miss Rothwell, though."
"What's he like in the British media?"
"The London Gazette had a picture of him just a few days ago. Tall and dark? I suppose? He looked really gaunt, kind of scary and miserly too. The papers said he was a part of the Tories—the Conservative Party. I think one of the articles said that he was all for the Commonwealth to return to the old days of the Britannic Empire."
"That's about what I pictured too." Gwen bit her lip worriedly. "Is he influential?"
"I think so?" Elvia saw nothing in politics, though a reasonable education wasn't out of the question. "He's on the papers a lot! Always looming over someone and looking upset. The cartoons often make fun of him and his Party."
Roo's balls, Gwen swore under her breath. When someone could only be insulted in satire, you knew they were dangerous. That can't be good, especially when Ravenport Sr gets the message that she was responsible for Ravenport Jr's demise. Didn't Gunther hint that her father crushed his balls? Bloody Oath. She was floating up shit creek without a paddle. Was she safe in Shanghai? From what she knew, the tier 1 Capitals loathed Mages from other cities barging into their territory. She just hoped that China had enough tension with London not to offer the Lord a reprieve in the form of an extradition treaty.
"Well, shit," Gwen replied dejectedly. "I guess I'll see what happens after tomorrow. I guess there's no point worrying about Ravenport Sr when I gotta murder a guy in cold blood tomorrow for Spellcraft—"
"I don't care!" Elvia announced suddenly, her blue eyes defiant and glowing. "I don't care what you do. You're always going to be the Gwen I met from Blackwattle."
Hearing Elvia's shrill proclamation of irresponsible affection immediately turned her frown upside down. "Thanks, Evee. You don't know how much that means to me. I'll do my best to keep myself sane for you."
"I'll visit! I'll be your Healer! We'll never be apart again!" Elvia promised idealistically, her aching heart clouding her judgement. "Wait for me! Three years, right? I should graduate in under three years! I'll come to find you in Shanghai."
"Okay." Gwen reached out and touched her fingers to Elvia's phantom appendages. With a hook and pull, the two girls made a pinky promise across space and time. "That's a promise."
Elvia nodded fiercely.
"Alright, time to go. I got a helluva day tomorrow," Gwen announced. "If possible, I'll Message you and let you know the results. I'll think of you when I murder—er— maybe not. Either way, knowing you're around, I'll be fine."
"You have to! I'll be waiting! I am not going anywhere until you do!" Elvia's white face filled the projection.
"I promise. Good night, Evee. I'll call or Message."
Elvia kept nodding, mumbling promises until Gwen hung up.
Gwen stared at the projector as though in a trance.
"You alright?" Petra met her at the bedroom door in nighties, ready to sleep.
Gwen turned her gaze upward, then nodded.
"Rest well. I'll wake you at 0800 sharp," Petra announced. "Master Messaged me earlier. Everything is arranged. We'll be going to Tilanqiao Prison first thing."
"The…" Gwen felt her scalp crawl. "The 'Blue-Basket Prison'?"
"Yeah." Petra reached out to touch her increasingly clammy hands.
Tilanqiao Prison.
Even Gwen knew about the infamous Prison located in the Hongkou District. The compound was built by the British Mageocracy during the Colonial Occupation and was later taken over by the Ministry of Public Security. It serves as a nightmarish symbol of the shadow cast over Shanghai by the Ministry of State Security and the Internal Security Bureau. The stories that escaped from the Prison were pure nightmare fuel. False imprisonment, extortion, torture, the murder of political prisoners, organ harvesting—there was little that escaped Tilanqiao Prison. It was a five-star fortress of atrocities, worthy of Orwell's Mini-Luv moniker.
"Come on, let's get you to bed," Petra urged her.
When Gwen finally came to clarity and self-awareness, she was already in bed, and Petra had returned to her room. Shivering, she slid her body snugly into the silky cotton.
“Evee… Evee… Eve…”
Gwen invoked the mantra of peaceful sleep.
But try as she might, Hypnos refused to give his blessing.