Present

The storefront was nondescript, without even a placard to hint at its name. It could’ve been mistaken for vacant, if it weren’t for a few shadows dancing along the back wall. According to Nat’s phone GPS, this was the place. She could feel the eyes of everyone who passed her. Wearing her grand scarlet dress and black cloak, affixed with a flawless opal, she could only imagine how out of place she appeared to the residents of Washington Heights.

Nat waited for an opening in the leisurely flow of traffic, then crossed the street. At the storefront, she tried the door. Locked. It was significantly heavier security than the average store, with a reinforced steel plate around the lock. Nat pressed her thumb to a scuffed up buzzer. The thing barely clicked down. Nevertheless, a violent buzz attacked her ears.

“We open at 5,” a fuzzy electronic voice emitted from a speaker under the buzzer.

“I’m here to talk to someone,” Nat said.

“Come back when we’re open.”

Nat tried the buzzer again, but it yielded no response. Shaking her head, Nat raised her hands to the lock. Focus. Breathe. Energy swirled in the core of her diaphragm and flowed out, down her arms. The energy manifested as a translucent blue aura around her hands. With a flick of a pointer finger, the aura invaded the keyhole. Using her other hand, she twisted in the air until she heard a click. It was beneath the Archmage to use her magic on such a trivial, intrusive affair, but Nat had wasted enough time just finding this place. She had none left to spare.

Inside, worn tables wiped to a gleam, were arranged in neat columns across the room. Nat navigated between them, past a vacant counter, toward an open door at the back of the room. Voices tangled together among clanking metal.

Beyond the doorway was a kitchen, populated by two women. An older woman was ordering a younger one around. The subordinate looked to be about college aged, only a few years younger than Nat. Both were far too busy in their bustle to notice Nat.

“Excuse me?” Nat broke the silence.

Both women whipped around to find the source of the voice.

“How did you get in here??” The older woman said angrily, before she had fully digested Nat’s appearance.

The older woman fell silent. Both women froze.

“Y-y-you’re-” The older woman stammered.

“The Archmage,” The younger woman finished.

“W-What’re you doing here?”

“Sorry for letting myself in,” Nat began politely. “I was told I might be able to find someone here. Is there a Kevin that volunteers here?”

The two women looked at each other, neither with a spark of recognition.

“No one named Kevin works in this soup kitchen,” the older woman said.

“Maybe he’s at the one in the church,” the younger woman suggested.

“Are you sure? He’s in his early twenties, kind of scrawny?”

Nothing. The older woman shook her head.

“Hold on,” Nat said, fishing her phone from the many folds of her dress.

“This Kevin,” the older woman probed tentatively. “Is he in some sort of trouble?”

“Is he a villain?” The younger woman squeaked.

“Cassandra!” the older woman admonished.

“No, nothing like that,” Nat chuckled. “I just need to talk to him.”

Nat pulled up a picture on her phone. Kevin Rose smiled out of her screen. He was dressed in a wrinkled, ill-fitting old button up. The pose seemed to indicate a class picture.

“Here’s what he would’ve looked like about six-seven years ago,” Nat said, holding up her phone.

The women came in closer to get a better look. At first, nothing seemed to register. Then, Cassandra’s eyes lit up.

“That looks like Andrew!”

The older woman squinted her eyes.

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“I don’t know, Cass…”

“I’m sure it’s him, Cheri!”

Nat’s breath tightened with excitement.

“So he does work here??”

“No,” Cheri sighed. “He’s not a volunteer.”

As soon as the doors opened, the downtrodden patrons filed into the soup kitchen. As she’d be there either way, Nat had opted to help out until the mysterious Andrew was spotted. A protection spell had rendered her immaculate clothing impervious to the splatter of food. The apron she wore was merely for show. Gloves and a hair net satisfied protocol, though magic had rendered them obsolete. Tray after tray appeared before her. Dutifully, she scooped out the soup with a ladle, and sloshed it into each bowl. Beside her, Cass handed out bread and potatoes. A few patrons had recognized the Archmage, but most had accepted their soup without a word.

The eagerness that had jolted Nat into action subsided after a few hours of work. She began to think all she’d get out of the night was the satisfaction of community service. As the night wound down, the tables emptied. Only a few patrons stuck around to engage in animated conversations over cleaned plates. Even fewer were still approaching the counter for food.

The door swung open. A man walked in, dressed in the same tattered clothes as all the others, sharing their general disposition. Nat waited for him, ladle in hand. He’d be the first patron she’d serve in more than a half hour. A fervid series of taps on her shoulder snapped her from malaise.

“That’s him!” Cass whispered.

Nat’s heart was bogged down with disappointment. Andrew looked nothing like the Kevin she remembered. She’d never seen this man in her life. Watching as Andrew walked up to the counter and grabbed a tray, Nat was struck at the nimbleness of his movements. Even for a young man, he was uncommonly graceful. His feet rolled over the ground, heel to toe, instead of flopping against it. The footfalls barely elicited any sound. When Andrew dropped his tray in front of Nat, their eyes met. Between their eyes sprung a mutual familiarity. A scraggly beard hid his face, and he was a good deal more emaciated, but his sunken eyes maintained their old intensity. It had been five years since they’d been teammates, three since she’d last seen him at the culmination of his eventful appearance at the Christmas party. There was no mistaking it, this was the Blackout she’d known years ago. Blackout quickly looked away, playing casual, and moved along to Cass to collect the rest of his meal.

Once Kevin was seated, Nat excused herself. In the kitchen, she quickly whooshed her hands. Her gloves and hair net peeled themselves off and floated into the garbage can. The knot of her apron untied itself, folded itself neatly, and placed itself on a counter. Cheri watched on in awe. Nat nodded to her and whisked herself out of the room once again.

Kevin was tucked away at the most remote table in the room, eating alone. Nat dropped into the chair opposite his, and stared expectantly. Kevin did not look up. He didn’t so much as alter the rhythm at which he brought the spoon from his bowl to his mouth.

“Hey, Kevin,” Nat finally said.

“Name’s Andrew,” Kevin said without any outward reaction.

“C’mon, Kev. I’ve been looking for you.”

“You’ve got the wrong guy. Sorry.”

A few more squelching spoonfuls were all Nat could take. Frustration put an umph into her voice that betrayed her polite tone.

“If you don’t talk to me, I’m going to drain your soup into the realm of faeries, and Cass sin’t going to give you any more.”

Kevin dropped his spoon with a clang. He finally made eye contact. It could have been the prick of anticipation, or the twisted scowl on his face, but the hair on her neck stood at attention.

“So you’re the Archmage now?” Kevin practically spat.

Nat had to make a concerted effort to keep the pleasant smile painted on her face.

“Yeah, my father-”

“You must’ve had to learn a lot.” Kevin Interrupted.

“Oh yeah, of course.” Nat started, grateful to get any opening for conversation. “The lessons I’ve-”

“Learn to take a hint. Leave me the fuck alone.”

With a swipe of his hand, Kevin was back to shoveling soup into his mouth. Nat tried to keep her frustration at bay. She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and scream into his face. It had been so difficult to track him down. Now, his obstinance was all that stood between her and the answers she so desperately needed. Nonetheless, she knew that she had to play it all carefully, or she’d spook him.

“Listen, Kevin,” Nat affected a very deliberate gentleness. “I don’t know what you’re going through, but I can help.”

“Help, huh?” Kevin said, once again without bothering to look up.

“Everyone goes through hard times. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you like I should’ve been. I haven’t been a good friend-”

Kevin snorted a mouth full of soup back into his bowl.

“In what world were we ever friends, Nat??” Kevin said incredulously, unable to stifle his derisive laughter.

“You’re right. I was a shitty teammate. I was an idiot teenager. But I’m here now. Whatever it is: drugs, money problems, I don’t care. Please-give me the chance to be there for you. I know you don’t have a place to stay. Come stay with me at the manor. Just please-please-I need your help.”

“Pass,” Kevin said, scraping the last bit of soup out of the bottom of his bowl. “You’ve got a Guild full of heroes you can pick from. I’m done with the cops and robbers shit.”

Kevin pushed himself to stand, grabbing his tray. With a brisk pace, he waltzed past Nat.

“Everyone else still thinks I’m dead, right?” Kevin asked over his shoulder.

“Kevin, please listen-” Nat begged.

“Let’s keep it that way.”

There was only one card left to play. Even with Kevin headed to the door, Nat was still afraid to deploy it. The unknown of it terrified her. If Kevin bristled at it, he wouldn’t just be gone, he’d make sure she’d never find him again. With his powers, there was not a person alive, super or otherwise, who could pick up his trail. Gone with him would be any of the answers her entire world depended on.

“Suggestion Girl sent me,” Nat blurted out.

Kevin froze. Time seemed to stop. Nat had made a grave error. Goosebumps sprouted from her skin. Blackout noiselessly stormed over to the table. The world went dark. The only light radiated from the opal on her cloak. What should have been a light as brilliant as day, was a weak, flickering glow. Blackout appeared in the range of the opal. A slick, impossibly black blade extended from the top of his wrist. Dread was Nat’s entire being. It was not just her fear that was paralyzing her. The darkness itself was pinning her to her seat. For a brief moment, her mind pondered who would be next in line for the title of Archmage. Blackout’s face was so close, she could feel his frigid breath on her cheek.

“How do you know that name?” Blackout growled.