Shane wanted to tap his foot in anticipation, yet he knew he couldn't. Frustration was unseemly, especially for a guard. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what was taking the man so long. He understood Presidential meetings often ran for an hour to three hours. But this was three men, one room, no papers or screens; the big man even said.
“Thirty minutes, I won’t want to keep the big blue-blood five.” There was a sense of disgust in his voice when he said that.
He shifted his gaze over to his partner. Mully stood there, face forward, his eyes, and his whole body locked in place like some firm statue. Shane once again suppressed the urge to react and remembered what he was. A stone-faced guard, as stone-faced as mug-chinned Mully. Or would he be clay chinned? He’d have to ask him that later, though he doubted he’d receive any real response. Just a sigh, a sneer, and an eye roll, all before returning to his statuesque state.
Before Shane could return to his original, and psychologically straining state of mind, the door burst open. And three men in black suits rushed from the door. The first man was a tall graying gentleman, with skin that reminded him of sand, the type that reminded Shane of the silver foxes his aunt pined after. Reggie Zimmer; the head of Domestic Security. Behind him was a shorter man with a false left eye. He was pale, balding, and seemed to huff with every step, Arnold Long; the head of Espionage, the hierarchical superior to the head of Domestic Espionage, and Foreign Espionage. Both men seemed to be in some state of irritation, though the taller man seemed more nettled than anything else, which was in direct contrast to his more vexed peer. Both took a left turn before the president could say anything, most likely leaving through one of the secret exits.
The president, Luthor Mince, was a man of average height, and broad shoulders, with deep brown eyes, only slightly darker than his milk chocolate skin. His head shimmered and shined as light reflected off his sweaty brow. He wiped it as much as he could, but the sweat seemed to never stop; reminding Shane of a leaky faucet. He looked to Shane, then to Mully. Then he took a long moment to inhale, before exhaling a long-winded sigh. He stared forward, blank-faced and awestruck, before shaking his head.
“Alright boys, let’s see the pompous brats who demand my attention.” He sighed before dabbing his shiny brown head with a wipe before stashing it away.
Employees and staff rushed from rooms, and through hallways, some greeted the President, and others kept their heads down. Noses shoved in papers or buried in files. The halls appeared brand new, which made sense when considering who their visitors were. Of The Five Head Huntsmen, some were more powerful than world leaders, others nearly as powerful as world leaders. All possessed economic and political influence over a number of nations, and each was in a position that had no place in the modern world. They were the last of an archaic system, where world governments depended on a single source to hunt magical entities; but now the magic was nearly gone from the Earth, and all the Head Huntsmen served as now are celebrities that occasionally kill a particularly powerful wizard or mad cult.
When they finally reached the door to the meeting room, it flew open automatically, the fact that what was technology today would be confused for magic 500 hundred years ago was not lost on Shane, but the distinction is clear now. At this point, it’s taught in most schools. When the door fully opened, all five of the Head Huntsmen sat at a round table, each with a solid black suitcase laid out in front of them. The first thing that caught Shane’s attention was the piercing gaze of an unfamiliar young man, the eyes weren’t human, they were sly and predatory; for a moment Shane felt as if they belonged to an eagle. Though something about them argued otherwise, an eagle’s eyes were hungry yes, but cold and obsidian. These eyes belonged to a predator hiding the tall grass, they followed him, they desired him, they mocked him, and made cruel japes to his face. A wild cat, yes, Shane decided these were the eyes of a cruel and possibly lascivious wild cat. Whereas a lion hunted to survive and no more, these eyes belonged to a midnight predator that stalked part for food, and part for pleasure. The owner of the eyes was a comely young man, his hair short and jet black. His honey-brown and clean-shaven face was that of a teenager, but something about his presence transformed him into a mesmerizing gentleman who had seen more years than Shane ever would.
It took Shane a second to realize who it was. Flint Typhon-Saul was more beard than man last he was seen, and every breath he took or word he spoke was followed by a violent sputter of blood and flem. Though he hadn't yet died, he had stated ahead of time that one of his younger kin would take his place at this meeting. One would assume it would be one of his sons, or nieces or nephews. But instead, he named some unknown son of a second cousin who hardly anyone knew. This boy, no, this predator was that son. Adan Typhon-Saul, nothing was known about him other than his name, the fact that he was 16, and the fact that he was bright, charming, and inquisitive. Well, he was certainly comely, Shane couldn't deny that much.
The next face was more familiar to Shane. Nerine Wolfbird, the first thing he noticed about her was just how unlike her mother she looked. In truth, most people noticed that, as the family was prone to making public appearances. Where her mother was pale and blonde, Nerine was light brown, almost like Adan, but her skin was more milk than honey. Her black hair was tied up into a somewhat neat, yet also unkempt bun. Her mother had gentle eyes that reminded him of the ocean, while her eyes were pale green and reminded him of a trickster one would find in old fables. Once again like Adan, yet kinder than him at the same time. Though she sported her own traits, her now-retired father still shined through. Like him, she was shorter than most, her nose was broad, and her lips were fuller. All traits she shared with her predecessor. Even her bodyguards belonged to her father before he retired. Their real names were Richard Cod and Steven Oak. Though most just called them Iron and Wood. Richard was first called Iron because of his often cold and apathetic demeanor, coupled with the rumor that he once killed a man with an ice pick. Though the public found a new reason when his hair began to gray. And Steven was called Wood, one because of his name, two because his skin was dark and rough like wood, there was a third reason but he couldn't remember what it was. The men had served her father, and now they served her just as diligently.
Next to her sat a young, bronze-skinned man, rubbing his glasses with a black cloth. His face was clean-shaven and bare, and uniquely handsome; save for his button nose, which was more out of place and partially cute than attractive. His use of hair gel was obvious, as the raven black hair had been made into a pompadour. His official name was Kaito Habakiri. Though many will say he doesn't deserve the surname. His true name is Amado, and his last name is unknown. Most information leads back to his origin being some exceedingly skilled island orphan. Kuro Habakiri found this five-year-old ball of talent and decided his heir didn't need to be of his blood, just of his will. Needless to say, the rest of his kin weren't happy about that and attempted to overthrow him 10 times. Each ending in blood and failure. When Kaito came into power a new controversy arose concerning his… tastes. The young man lifted his bored eyes, allowing his pupils to fall upon him, Mully, and then the President. His eyes didn't offer any hint of emotion beyond disinterested apathy. His bald bodyguards reflected this sentiment, so apathetic, one couldn't judge Shane for assuming they didn't even take their jobs seriously.
On the opposite side of the table sat a man and a woman whose appearances could only be described as pure dichotomy. The man sat closest to the entrance. Mobo Adesanya; to say his skin was a rarity in most parts of the world was an understatement. It wasn't dark brown, or even dark in general. It was black, so black that it was almost purple. His hair was shaved down to mere stubbles, thousands of tiny black and gray needles along his head. What surprised Shane, was that he was supposed to be in his 40s, yet the bags under his eyes and his graying hair made him seem 20 years older. His hands were veiny and muscular, and his biceps threatened to bulge through the arms of his suit. Shane saw his mother on TV once, her eyes were kind and her aura was inspiring. His eyes were yellow, with Dark chocolate pupils. The air around him was almost polluted by his clear frustration or ire, or both. One of his bodyguards was an older woman, who was for lack of a better term, a giant. At least six feet and six inches; and almost as muscular as him. Her kinky and curly hair was made into three neat buns, and her skin, while darker than her counterpart, was not as dark as Mobo's. Her counterpart was a younger male, significantly shorter, and significantly lighter, though still darker than Adan. His hair was short, yet not bald, more of an afro really; well an attempt really.
And last but not least, his opposite; well, almost. The young woman, who wasn't quite as young as Nerine was named Sigrid Locke. She was muscular for a woman, yes but she was also pale, her skin reminded him of wool or snow. And her hair blonde had been trimmed to her shoulders, but not the type of blonde he's seen before. The blonde wasn't golden, it was silvery, no, platinum. Her eyes were shimmering and sharp specks of ice surrounded by a pure white canvas. Her guards also happened to be her cousins, a pair of comely red-haired twins, though the girl had freckles while the boy did not. He could refer to them as a man and woman, but their faces were far too green. They looked like they were fresh out of school, or whatever private education they attended.
And here they were, Typhon-Saul, Wolfbird, Habakiri, Adesenya, and Locke. The five heads, or rather four heads, and a representative of the five families who were taught in every historical textbook in the nation.
The President sat down in the center seat, Shane and Mully taking their place beside him. The man dabbed his shiny brown head, his cloth only absorbing some of the sweat before he took in a deep breath through his nostrils.
“I apologize for my tardiness. I had matters to attend to concerning domestic affairs.”
Mobo was the first to respond with a huff and a thick accent. “While I accept your apology, some of us wish to discuss the matter at hand, rather than sit and wait in a room of degenerates and children.”
Sigrid rolled her eyes, and oh so slightly distanced her seat from his. Nerine opened her mouth, her nose visibly flaring, but she quickly shut it, and resigned herself to seething in silence.
The first to speak was Adan, his voice had a stone-coldness to it. Yet there was also something melodic about how he spoke. “I can assure you that I was hand-picked to act as my family’s representative. I’m aware of my age, but I am also aware of my own prowess.”
Mobo’s eyes lit up, and his nose flared; the man’s teeth ground against each other before he barked back at the teenager. “Your cousin David would’ve been an apt representative. I’ve met him myself, and that was a leader, a man to be honored and respected.”
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“Good soldiers don’t make good leaders.” Adan swiftly responded in a sing-songy, yet mocking tone.
“And neither do boys younger than my scars.” Mobo snapped back.
Adan lifted an eyebrow, “Apologies, but I’m not interested in seeing a man strip at the moment.”
Mobo snarled, “listen you little-.”
“That’s enough!” Sigrid interjected, her voice was cold and sharp. “We came to discuss pressing matters, not watch an adult argue with a teenager.”
Adan simply smiled and bowed his head. Mobo bowed his head too, though all his lips could muster was a scowl.
Sigrid turned to the President, “President Luthor; the honor is all yours.”
He sighed and nodded. “Uh- yes- thank you. I gathered you all here today to discuss the growing threat of magic. As I’m sure you’re all aware, instances of magic are on the rise. Cultists, sorcerers, magicians, and necromancers. Elves in the forests, and dragons in the Eastern seas.” He took a moment to find the words before continuing. “I think I know the origin of this recent resurgence. In this very nation, a human born with latent magical capabilities exists, they must be the cause-.”
Nerine didn’t wait for him to finish before cackling like a mad hyena. “I- I’m sorry what? A magic baby! Oh, ma- okay I- what?” She laughed uncontrollably for five more seconds before her cackles turned into pants, huffs, and hoots. “I- I’m sorry, it’s just, that’s the dumbest-”
The president cut her off, “Now I know how that sounds but-”
Sigrid shouted over him, “It sounds ridiculous. I mean, do you even have any proof of this?”
He sighed and nodded. “Ancient scrolls and legends, investigations into arcane rituals, interrogations with cultists and mystical creatures we’ve captured. They know what’s coming, their messiah, a leader who’s come to save and liberate them.”
Sigrid’s eyes fell and rose, her mouth agape before she sneered and rolled her eyes. “Right… Or you know, they could’ve just been crazy, or desperate…. Right, we’re done he-”
Adan raised his finger and interjected. “There may be some truth to Luthor’s words. My family kills most of its catches. But a number of ghouls have been… misbehaving for the past 20- 18 years- longer than I’ve been around, but enough to have records. Seers and djinn in our dungeons have been going on about the promised one for years now. And recently, I’ve gained access to some private documents. While the contents are on a need-to-know basis, they’re still pointing to this chosen child born with magic.” He turned to Sigrid, “I’m sure you’ve also dealt with missing ships. No need to hide it, your southern seas are my northern seas. Both once sustained a large siren population.”
“I-” Sigrid raised her finger to respond only for Nerine to jump in.
“-Now wait a second, you’re high school age, a full-on baby. How did you get the clearance to know about this, what did you call it? Classified information?”
He gave her a warm smile. “My family trusts me.”
Nerine raised an eyebrow and slumped into her seat, “fair enough, continue.”
Adan nodded in acknowledgment. “We know what’s happening, we just don’t know how or why. Why only recently? How was this human born?”
The President gave a nod and continue, “And what they’re after.”
Nerine placed her elbow on the table, lazily raising her hand and waving it. “Right, true, but do we even know if this person knows? This person, who is likely a child. I mean, for all we know they’re some random athlete who doesn’t even know what they’re capable of.”
Sigrid coughed into a balled fist, “Or they’re living in some remote commune, being raised by an evil cult of wizards and warlocks. Or across the sea living with your runaway royals.” Her eyes shifted from between Nerine and the President. The two shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
Eager to move the topic away from the exiled royal family half a world away, Negrine raised her voice and perked up. “How do we even know they were born here huh? I mean, if they were, surely you would’ve told me right?”
The President dabbed his head, “I wanted to tell you at once, but this is bigger than all of us. I thought it was best I tell you all now.”
Nerine burst from her seat and leaned forward, her hands planted firmly on the table. “Yeah, but this is my territory!” She whined.
Mobo muttered something under his breath.
“Something to say-?” She asked, her eyes narrowed like some angry hawk.
Before he could respond, the President cut in, “-We know because government agents have been investigating this for years. We don’t know why here, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that they’re here, somewhere, waiting to strike…”
Nerine plopped back down into her seat. Crossing her arms. That’s when Mobo finally began his response. His face was a sneer at first, though just as quickly as the sneer appeared, a scowl took its place. “You ask why… well here’s your why.” He gestured towards Nerine. “Look at her, a degenerate child so distracted by her own depravity, that she didn’t even notice a monster growing in her borders.” He balled his fist and narrowed his eyes, “Disgusting… though I cannot blame you. This nation was riddled with magic only a century ago, if your family hadn’t made their new seat here after the revolution you may have never been tainted. But now look at you. A wife is one thing, but a husband too.” He looked to the ceiling and uttered a prayer; “These cursed lands have tainted your family, and turned them into polygamists.”
Amado opened his mouth, his lips curled into a partial smile, “I think we have our-”
Mobo stood up. “Look around you! Children, and degenerates. Sigrid and I are-!”
“-Don’t bring me into your madness!” Sigrid snapped at him.
Nerine stood up again, pushing her seat back, her guards reaching for her, only for the young woman to shake them away, “Hands off me. I’ve had it up to here with you you- you- boar. You’re just mad your bloodline will go to your cousins after you die without ever receiving a kiss from someone who wasn’t your mama. You’re a jealous bag of testosterone who’s jealous I can get it from two genders, while you’re probably scoring less than frog face over there… no offense, I’m sure you’re sweet.” It took Shane a moment to realize the fact that she was referring to him.
The President spoke and raised his voice, “Now you see here-”
“My point still stands, you’re just a pent-up fool who’s probably never held hands with a girl because it’s oh so sinful! Good excuse by the-”
Mobo looked ready to burst, “Need I remind you that we are a Religious order?”
“Your interpretation maybe.” She corrected.
“The ancient interpretation,” he corrected.
“An archaic interpretation,” Sigrid corrected, “but that’s beside the point, we’re getting off-topic.”
The President was overflowing at this point, salt sweat leaking from his shiny bald head like a melting sphere of ice. That’s when he roared out, “That’s it, we’re do-”
Adan spoke over him in a sing-songy voice. “Comrades, don’t you all see. We shouldn’t be fighting. We know why they’re here. This was the last nation where magic ruled. And now we know what we must do. We’re all here, we all have our forces, our private armies. All we need is permission from the President here to bring in a sufficient amount of our soldiers. Comrades, don’t you see, this is a golden opportunity. The Messiah is here, let’s find them, burn them out of their den, and blow. Their. Brains. Out. We’ll converge on their location, it may take months, it may take years. But it’s all the same, this is their dying gasp, let us silence them.”
----------------------------
The President plopped down into his seat, giving out a long sigh before taking three long gulps of some foreign alcohol from a glass mug. The bottle sat next to the mug on the table in front of them. The language written on the bottle was Eastern and obscure, but the image on it was that of an orochi being staked through the heart with a sharpened stick that grew out into a bountiful tree. He rubbed his temple and groaned out to the ceiling of their dimly lit room. His unwinding room, where he sat and read, or looked at the fire, or listen to old symphonies from a period Shane wasn’t alive to see outside of movies.
“I can’t believe that actually worked…” he paused for a moment, as if in disbelief, “Eat your heart out, Reggie!” He kicked and squealed like a young child, whooping with joy. “That kid…” he eased himself back into his seat, placing his hand on his chest and panting as if he just ran a marathon. “That kid was a weirdo and reminded me of this oddball from high school…. You know the kind.” He took another sip of his foreign snake alcohol and sighed. “And now they’re staying in the same city as me… great…. Er- what did you think of him?” He looked up at Shane, he didn’t seem drunk yet, though his eyes were no longer dim and perturbed. He was more curious than anything.
“He was…” Shane thought for a moment, how would he pin the kid down? He thought for another ten seconds until he blurted out, “Freaky, sort of catlike I guess.”
“Cat-like?” He uneasily turned his head over to Mully, “Please say you have a normal response. Shane here reminds me of this kid my brother shoved in a locker. Some subpar poet he attributes humans to animals.”
Mully responded instantly, his voice monotone, but not hollow, it was nervous, almost frightened. “He didn’t blink…”
The President huffed, “Neat, well thank creation he’s on our side… now, as to why we’re really here.” He placed his mug down on a coaster and clasped his hands together, leaning forward and taking a deep sigh. “Do you both know what magic is? Go ahead, I’m open to any answers….”
Before Shane could even consider the question, Mully responded in his firm robotic voice. “A form of energy that’s still under heavy research. It’s unlike anything else, yet also diverse. Varying from creature to creature, source to source. It’s a source of energy for the biotic and abiotic matter. It’s the oldest anomaly with no known source. It grants access to our world and others… it’s unnatural yet completely natural.”
The President glanced over to Shane, his eyes no longer curious and twinkling. No, these eyes were piercing. “And you?”
Shane’s mouth gaped open, was he the idiot in this conversation? What else could he say? Mully described it perfectly, stupid, perfect Mully, he probably thought Shane looked stupid right now, he always did. What’s that? Wait, am I drooling? No, no, no, I’m drooling. Kill me, kill me, kill me. Shut your mouth, you idiot. “Uh… what he said.”
He sighed and shook his head. “You’re both wrong … magic… magic is power. Magic grants the means to create life, to build empires, to raise the dead, and tear holes between worlds. Dragons were gods, and wizards were kings. Not even alchemy can make a man a demigod. But magic… magic’s only limit is one’s imagination. And that’s why we can’t trust these blue bloods.” He stood up and sauntered over to the fireplace. “Our government is young. We must accumulate power and sabotage those who would use power against us. There are enemies everywhere, even within our very borders. These hunters, heh… they may hate magic, but don’t think for a second that they’re above using it to hold onto their dying might. Which is why we have to make allies.” He turned around and looked to Shane and Mully. Our guests will need escorts… bodyguards to keep a close eye on them. But they know our spies, so I’ll need to put my own men to the task. Third bodyguards for those who may have… targets on their backs. Don’t worry, your replacements have already been chosen. Mully, you’re going to Amado. Shane, it’s your lucky day, you’re getting Sigrid.” He firmly planted his hands on the shoulders of the two men before him. Shane could feel his meaty fingers tightly squeezing his shoulder. “Boys… get ready for the biggest assignment of your lives.”