It had been a week since William discovered that his doctorate in linguistics might not be a complete load of rubbish in this ancient, unforgiving world. While he had worked to puzzle out the magical potential of ancient languages, he'd also been teaching Jill English. Her knack for language was rather brilliant; within a week, she could manage basic conversation, though her words were clipped and careful, her grammar often as patchy as her understanding of the world around her. He'd also decided to adopt her as his sister.

"Not half bad for just a week, eh?" he said, watching her silently pronounce words to herself.

Jill met his gaze with a small, tentative smile, mimicking his words slowly, "Not... bad."

William grinned. "Right, we'll have you quoting Shakespeare in no time, love."

He continued to experiment with magic in his spare moments, his growing knowledge of Latin bearing fruit—at least with elemental magic. His early success with ignis had been only the beginning, and soon he was trying more commands, finding subtle but powerful effects with the simplest phrases. His degree might have been mocked as "pointless" back home, but here, it was his primary survival skill. He'd bet that those people taking the mick out of his degree would not be able to discover magic as easily as he did. Even if they did, they would only be able to use English for their magic, so it would be incredibly inefficient.

More importantly, he wanted to have somewhere he could call home. He decided that with magic here, he wanted to create a school for those with the talent for magic. A school—a place to gather and teach others who might have the potential to harness magic—was an idea he clung to. He imagined it nestled in the highlands of Scotland, just like Hogwarts. He smiled at the thought. And it would not just be a school either. No, it would be a heavily fortified place, capable of even withstanding nuclear strikes. For this dream to come true, he knew he would have to learn a lot more about magic. And with nothing to guide him other than fictional books he had read in the past, he knew it would be a right challenge to fulfil that dream. Well, he would be able to build a school, sure, but it would lack the magic he wanted it to embody. He envisioned more than just walls and rooms; he wanted a place imbued with magic energy, where the very air thrummed with magic, a place where even the stones held secrets.

He glanced over at Jill, who was now meticulously tracing patterns in the dirt with a stick, occasionally glancing up as if to check she was following some unseen instruction.

William chuckled, imagining Jill as a professor one day, teaching the young and wide-eyed students how to use magic properly, "You know, Jill, you might make a cracking good professor one day yourself."

She looked up at him, "Pro... fessor?"

"Professor is a teacher," he explained to her.

She pointed at herself, "Jill... teacher?" She looked up again at him, "Like William?"

He laughed, "Yes, Jill. Like me."

"You've been picking this all up faster than I expected," he continued, nodding toward her. "Bit of a prodigy, you know that?"

"Prodigy…" she echoed, trying the word on her tongue, her brow furrowed slightly.

"It means 'someone who's naturally good at something,'" he explained, and she gave a small nod of understanding.

"Jill… prodigy," she murmured, the slightest hint of pride in her tone.

I stopped talking and stood up, "Jill, let's hunt. We need blood."

She flashed her teeth, eager. They had been slowly reducing their hunts. First, they went hunting once a day, now it's once every other day. William figured that they needed to learn how to control their hunger fast before some accident happened. And the best way to do that is by slowly reducing the intake. He sighed. He looked at Jill again. She looked like a human. Like a homo sapien. According to his assumptions, homo sapiens weren't supposed to exist yet. Sure, it was likely that he was in a time frame that they existed but there was an even more probable chance of being a time when they didn't. In the end, he stopped thinking about it. He would find out, sooner or later. And he had recognized the landscape. Well, not really but he recognized the coastline from the maps he had seen. He was near the horn of Africa, which meant to meet more humans, he would need to go to the Middle East or to the Niles. Not that he wanted to. The human species at this time was not intelligent enough for him to meet them. They would be living in the tribal era with little to no intelligence. He doubted they could even talk properly. Sure, they would be able to communicate but he had no interest in 'guiding' humanity. Not before any major civilizations pop up, at least. He decided that if he were really on Earth and merely back in time, he would start becoming more active around the time that the Mesopotamian or Egyptian civilization started.

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He shook his thoughts away as he sniffed the air. He smelled something. A wolf. Not a direwolf. Something more... exotic. He jumped up into the trees as he started jumping from branch to branch. He'd always wanted to do that. He laughed as he looked behind. Jill was following his exact path, not missing a single step. They rushed through the forest without so much as a sound, only occasional laughter from William that alerted the wildlife around the forest. As the scent grew stronger, he slowed down, before completely stopping. Indeed. A lone wolf. That's rare, he thought to himself. Wolves were rarely found alone, even if at all.

The wolf was a hefty creature, its coat a rough, sandy brown that suited the dry landscape perfectly, streaked here and there with darker shades that ran like shadowed paths down its back. Along its spine, a faint line of black-tipped fur traced from neck to tail, a small but striking detail that spoke to the creature’s endurance.

Its amber-yellow eyes were sharp and steady, observing its surroundings with the unhurried air of something that had long mastered the art of survival. As it moved, its tawny fur blended seamlessly with the grasses and scattered rocks of the savanna, allowing it to appear and disappear almost at will—an expert at slipping into the background.

Built for the warm, open plains, the wolf’s coat was noticeably thinner around its belly and legs, a practical adaptation for the African heat. Altogether, it had the look of a creature well-suited to this land, possessing that quiet, unwavering strength that comes from belonging entirely to one’s surroundings.

William licked his lips. He could smell the sweet sweet blood oozing from it. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but all it served to do was make him more hungry. He kept his eyes trained on the wolf, his grip tightening around the bark of the tree. He cast a glance at Jill. She was crouched on the branch beside him, eyes fixed on the wolf with an intensity that matched his own. Though she’d learned restraint over the past few days, William knew that hunger could still hit them like a wave. No, not a wave. A tsunami would be a better term.

“Stay close and watch,” he murmured, hoping Jill’s developing English would help her hold back.

She nodded, eyes gleaming as she mimicked his stance, and William took that as encouragement.

He dropped down onto the snow, caring not to make any noise. He had learned how to do that days ago while hunting a megafauna cheetah. It was almost as big as a human in height and it could hear exceptionally well. He had to spend the entire day hunting it to learn how not to make any sound with movement.

The wolf's ears twitched, but it hadn't noticed him yet. He stepped slowly, letting his feet land with all the care he could muster, each movement deliberate and unhurried. When he reached a dozen yards away from the wolf, it finally turned its head, sensing the danger too late. He reached out with insane speed, reaching it within a blink of an eye. In a swift move, he locked onto the animal’s shoulder and steered it to the ground. He was careful to keep his grip gentle enough not to harm it yet. Well, gentle was relative. For the animal, it was very gentle but for a human, it would be like if a car was crushing the head. Does not feel good.

He looked back at Jill, nodding her forward. She stepped closer, mimicking his actions. As she knelt beside him, he guided her hand, showing her the best angle to bite so she wouldn’t harm the creature more than necessary.

“Small bite, alright?” he whispered. “We don’t need much.”

Jill nodded and placed her mouth near the wolf’s shoulder, mirroring his cautious movements. She took a tentative bite, and the wolf let out a soft whine but didn’t struggle as Jill drank just enough to take the edge off her hunger. Then she pulled back, wiping her mouth, and looked at him, a small, satisfied smile crossing her face.

“Good, Jill,” he murmured before he also plunged his fangs into the shoulder. He drank and drank. It actually tasted a lot better than last time. It tasted like Irn-bru, which was odd. After drinking enough, he gently released it and gave it a small nudge so that it could stand up. After giving him a glare, it trotted away, disappearing into the trees.

Jill let out a sigh, as though releasing some pent-up tension, then turned to him with a look of accomplishment, a silent question in her eyes.

“Well done, sister,” he said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “At this rate, you’ll have that control down in no time.”

“Control?” she echoed, tilting her head.

“Aye. Control over hunger,” he explained, gesturing to the spot where the wolf had disappeared. “Self-control is something even a lot of people struggle with, you know. It takes practice.” Something I had to relearn with this new hunger, he thought gingerly. While all this new strength, speed, magic, and especially not needing to sleep was cool and all, he'd rather not have to drink blood. But hey, when life gives you lemon, you make lemonade. And life gave him hunger so he drank Irn-bru-flavored blood.

As they began their walk back to the clearing, William chuckled at the absurdity of it all. Here he was, miles and millennia away from his life in the modern world, teaching a language to a would-be vampire sister he’d adopted on a whim, both of them living off Irn-bru-flavoured wolf blood and dreams of magic.

“Bit mad, isn’t it?” he mused aloud, glancing at Jill. She gave him a quizzical look, that slight tilt of her head he’d come to recognise whenever she didn’t quite catch the meaning.

“Mad?” she echoed, frowning.

“It means… well, strange, bonkers,” he said, gesturing broadly. “Odd, in a way that shouldn’t work, yet here we are.”

Jill considered this, nodding thoughtfully. “Mad… but good?”

He grinned. “Exactly! Mad, but good.”

As they trudged through the trees, he found himself running through Latin phrases in his head, plotting his next round of magical experiments. He’d had success with ignis and levare and even managed a bit of levitation, but he wanted more—enchantment, protection, and maybe even something to create light. He could already see it in his mind. A huge castle hidden behind a fog, with classrooms on every floor, with his own floor on the top of the castle. He'd even thought of making it only accessible to students through only train but he felt he would be stealing too much of an idea. He grinned. He could almost see himself in front of the entire school, giving a boring opening speech similar to the ones he had to power through during his younger years.

And with each success in magic, the dream felt closer to reality.