Oscar Reynolds

“You’re kidding me,” Lieutenant Lily Sheffield said with a roll of her eyes. “Mr. Reynolds, if you would excuse—”

“I’m not kidding!” Oscar said as he held his hand up to halt her, though another soldier stepped forward to stop him. Oscar immediately backed off, and in a quieter voice, he said, “This plan will work; you just have to believe me.”

“I believe you alright,” The woman said, looking at him Oscar began to smile but stopped when he said, “But that doesn’t mean I like it one bit. You’re telling me there’s a secret passageway in this maintenance tunnel that'll lead all the way to the Arcanium Reactor Plant, and you want us to overload the damn thing?”

Terry stepped forward to back Oscar up. “Lieutenant Sheffield, I understand your apprehension, but please, trust the artificer and myself. Both of us are experts in this field.” Oscar side-eyed the large man, Terry may be an expert (or at least have worked with experts), but Oscar’s knowledge was more focused on firearms and machinery. Not spell theory or reactions. Sure, he could maybe figure out how a reactor is put together, but how it actually works? No way.

Terry continued, “We’re not planning on overloading the reactor to the point of runaway containment, but we’re looking to create a controlled pulse. You’ve heard stories of the front; you know how the Rusivites are using autonomous machines, most of which are powered by–”

The lieutenant waved a hand. “I have been briefed on the Rusimians tactics, Mr. Rosewall, and I know very well what you’re planning.”

Both Oscar and Terry blinked and shared a look. Before the meeting with the Lieutenant and after Oscar finished speaking to their “mysterious benefactor,” which he chose to refer to simply as “Ben.” Oscar accepted Ben’s request and was immediately assaulted by a massive amount of information.

Whoever Ben was, their plan was simple. Underneath Johanneson is a labyrinth of tunnels, many of which date back to the Twilight War and even beyond. Most of the tunnels are unused, and Ben said that even the Heinmarran government is unaware of their existence. One tunnel in particular, Ben noted, connects to the maintenance tunnel they’re in and leads down a winding path towards the arcanium plant beneath Johanneson, specifically to the reactor control room.

At first, Oscar was confused and didn’t believe Ben was telling the truth—that is until Ben started producing evidence. Blueprints of the reactor, ancient maps of the labyrinth, as well as the exact steps that they need to do to manipulate the arcane machine to generate what Ben referred to as an aetherophasic pulse, Oscar had no idea what the hell that was, but it sounded like artificer wizard bullshit he'd read somewhere in his long life.

Ben explained quickly that the pulse would dispel all ether within a forty-gilo radius. Large enough to envelop nearly the entire city. It took Oscar a few seconds for the gears in his head to turn to realize what this meant, and when it clicked, he immediately rushed to Terry and explained everything. He had feared the kind and wealthy businessman would think he was insane; instead, the man thought he was a genius.

“You do?” Both of the men asked the lieutenant.

"Yes, I do; you should know this, Mr. Reynolds.” She flicked a wrist at him. “I am aware that you work in the arms industry; haven’t you heard of AM Fields?”

Oscar blinked. “Uh, ma’am, my field is ether weapons… I don’t know what you’re–”

“Anti-magic fields,” she clarified. “Like what those wizards do in fights to stop one another from casting spells or some shit. I don’t know the fancy technicalities behind it all, but I do know that we had been shipped out here with portable AM field generators—something about a resonance pulse that causes magic to go nuts.”

Terry’s eyes widened, and he turned to Oscar. “That’s perfect then,” he said happily, though Oscar looked at the officer with a skeptical look. “If that’s the case, then we won’t need to go through with the initial–” The woman held her hand up.

“Hold your reins there, Mr. Rosewall. Keyword there was had.” Sheffield sighed and shook her head. “They were on the master right before it was blown up; it’s very likely those things are particles now.” Her eyes flicked back up at Oscar. “What you want to do, Mr. Oscar, is to turn one of Heinmarr’s few Arcanium plants into a giant AM generator.”

Oscar felt Anne’s caster vibrating in his pocket, and he slowly nodded. “Yes. The Rusivite’s automatons run on magic, or at least some form of it. I can set the reactor to release a resonance pulse strong enough to deactivate them before they even wake up.”

The officer slowly nodded her head before staring daggers into Oscar’s eyes. “That’s a good plan, except for the fact that doing so would also render us all inept. The pulse would disable the machines, but it’ll also disable all of our machines and possibly even our weapons.”

Oscar nodded. “I know that, ma'am, and I know that isn’t entirely true–”

“And how would you know that?” She asked, cutting him off. “You said it yourself that this isn’t your field of expertise, and what about you, Mr. Terry,” she said, looking to the wealthy man, who was now the one looking skeptically towards Oscar.

“To my knowledge, Madam, you are correct. Such a resonance would not discriminate. Everyone would be affected.” He agreed with her.

Here was the moment, Oscar thought to himself. Ben said they were okay with him telling people about them, while Oscar wasn’t fully trustworthy of anyone here. He needed allies. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the caster he held and presented it.

“I know because of this. It’s a communication device I call a caster; some of you may have seen these back home. They’re a newer invention,” he said as the Lieutenant and a few other soldiers, and Terry looked curiously at the scuffed device. “Think of it like a wizard’s orb, but for your pocket.”

Lieutenant Sheffield cocked an eyebrow. “Like a wizard’s orb, does it give you cryptic messages about the future?” She joked.

Oscar couldn’t help but snort. “Sort of.” He flipped it open. “Ben. Introduce yourself.” The small group of soldiers began to mutter as Sheffiled’s eyebrow arched even higher as she looked at Oscar as if he were a madman.

Suddenly, the black glass began to shift as swirling white lines began to form themselves into words on the glass. “Hello,” it read and played along, “I am Ben. Think of me as a mysterious benefactor, Lily Sheffield.”

"Ooookay, that’s creepy,” the woman said, breaking professionalism briefly as she pulled away. “I am Lieutenant Sheffield to whoever you are.” She glared at Oscar. “This better not be some joke.”

Oscar shook his head as the text shifted on the caster. “Our apologies, Lieutenant Sheffield; this is not a joke. Time is of the essence.” The text swirled to show the countdown, which displayed one hundred and five minutes and was decreasing. “In less than one hundred and five minutes, twelve shells will awaken and cause great havoc in this city. If you wish to save the lives of hundreds, perhaps thousands, you must act hastily and with discretion.”

“With discretion?” The woman. “I should report this right away–”

“With all due respect,” Oscar said, silencing her with a raised hand. “We don’t have time. The map that Ben showed me has many twists and turns, and even for an elf like myself, it’s pitch black down there, so we’ll need plenty of torches. If we leave right now, and I mean right this second, we’ll have only minutes to spare when we arrive.”

The swirling text on the caster shifted as it now read, “Mr. Reynolds is correct, Lieutenant. We do not have the time. I humbly request that you trust us. Johanneson does not have much time.”

Sheffield’s lips drooped into a frown as she looked at the magical device. “Say I do trust you,” she said, “and we do go through with this. Rendering the city inert would allow the Rusivites, who were not affected by the pulse, to attack us. What then?”

The caster audibly vibrated in Oscar’s hands, and he flinched a little as the swirling text seemed to spasm as if frustrated before calming. Everyone shared a nervous glance as the letters rewrote themselves. “Excellent observation, Lieutenant Sheffield,” The text appeared slowly, and Oscar couldn’t help but feel as if it were being condescended. “You are correct in being concerned; however, we can assure you that there is nothing to worry about.”

“So you’re telling us to just trust you?” She scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “A cheshire is more believable than you,” she said, referring to a feline-like fae being.

The caster vibrated once again, this time more intensely, as the text hastily wrote out, “Lieutenant. The resonance I plan to release–”

Oscar’s eyebrow arched when Ben said “I” and not the usual “we” or “us.”

“--will be potent enough to temporarily disable the city's functions for roughly four hours, thirty-seven minutes, and thirty-two seconds. With the Rusivites having finished their air raid, they will need to pull back to the nearest air fleet, which is roughly thirteen hundred gilos from where you’re at, taking them nearly two and a half hours of flight time. They’ll then need to refuel, rearm, and conduct any needed maintenance. I should also mention that they’re leaving right now. So, doing the math, by the time—”

“I get it! I get it!” Sheffield groaned as she waved her hands. “By Merlin’s beard, you don’t need to be a dick. I get it.” She sighed. “How the hell do you even know this?” She asked Ben but also glanced at Oscar.

The massive blurb of text on the glass vanished, and in its place, Ben wrote, “I am unable to disclose that information. Just know that we are on the same side.”

Sheffield pinched the bridge of her nose and turned to her fellow soldiers. Oscar cleared his throat and said, “Ma’am, I know it’s a lot to take in, but I think Ben is telling the truth. If those monsters wake up, hundreds or more will die, and the city will be thrown into chaos. Ben here, whoever they are, they’re giving us a chance.”

“Or,” Sheffield said, staring into Oscar’s eyes. “They’re setting us up for failure.”

Oscar couldn’t argue with that. He shrugged. “Possibly, but…” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at Anne, who was sitting idly against the wall nearby. Seeing her uncle looking at her, she smiled meekly and waved at him. Oscar gave a polite wave with his free hand and turned back to the soldier. “I don’t want to put my niece in any other danger.”

Lily groaned and closed her eyes as she thought for only a few seconds. Opening her eyes, Oscar noticed her expression had relaxed, and she said with a nod, “Alright. Coleman, Jax.” The two soldiers behind her stiffened to attention. “See if you scavenge up some torches. Johnson and Archer, you two stick with Mr. Reynolds and Rosewall and try to find this secret path this Ben fellow speaks of.” Oscar smiled as Sheffield turned to look at him, their eyes meeting as the two stood there for just a second.

Oscar smiled faintly. “Thank you.” He bowed his head.

“Don’t thank me yet, Mr. Reynolds.” Her eyes narrowed. “I and my men will be keeping a close eye on you and that Ben fellow.”

“I understand,” he said. “I know this a lot, but it may be our only chance.”

“Or, we’re digging our own graves,” The lieutenant muttered under her breath. “Why do I have to have the highest rank here?” She lamented to herself as she brushed past Oscar and Terry.

Oscar sighed once the soldier was further down the corridor and turned to Terry. “I never expected this to be how my business trip would turn out.”

Terry snorted and patted the elf on the shoulder. “Ha, first time?” He winked, and Oscar frowned and looked at the man, confused.

----------------------------------------

Luna

“Slyran, move your ass!” Isa hurried my father as he gripped me tightly and ran down the road.

“I’m going as quickly as I can. I can see the house!” He said this as he pointed with one arm towards the small house between the apartments.

With time cutting it close, we only had about a minute left before the enforced curfew would be in effect. Not knowing how such a curfew would be enforced in this magical world, judging by Isa’s and my father’s reactions, I feared that the second the clock struck zero, some magical trap would be activated.

My fears were probably exaggerating what would happen, but then again, I never expected planes or giant War of the Worlds robots to invade. Hell, let alone be reincarnated. Anything could happen at this point. What happened that surprised all of us, though, was the front door to the house flying open, and my mother frantically waved us all inside just before we reached the front yard.

How the hell did she know we were coming?

Without questioning it, my father and Isa quickly rushed up the steps with me and through the front door. Shutting the door behind us, my mother threw her arms around the three of us and hugged us all tightly. My father kissed my cheek and pulled away, only to stop when my mother grabbed his chin and kissed his lips for only a few seconds before pulling away.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Are all of you okay?” She asked.

“We’re fine; I took a few bumps, but I’m okay,” my father said, and he bounced me into his arms. “The little one here kept me going.” He smiled.

Relieved to be safe I jokingly said, “Father is very clumsy.”

“Oi!” He scoffed and kissed me on the head. “Shut your mouth.” He winked, and I giggled.

From upstairs, I heard a shuffle, and our heads turned to see my brother Varis standing above us. To my surprise, his face was hardened, yet I could see his eyes were faintly red as if he had been crying.

“Varis!” I squeaked and wriggled in my father’s arms, and he set me down on the ground. Once I was free, I clambered up the stairs and threw my arms around him. Yet, to my surprise, he didn’t hug me back. Confused, I pulled away from him and looked at him. “Varis?” I said it questioningly.

“Why are you always getting into trouble?” He said it in a low voice and puffed his cheeks.

Confused I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

“Wherever you go, bad stuff happens!” He exclaimed, and I could hear our family groaning down the steps.

"Varis, that isn’t fair,” my father began, but my brother shook his head.

“But it’s true!” He huffed. “Luna’s like one of those… uh… magnet things.”

I frowned. “I’m not a trouble magnet!” I lightly bopped his chest. “Meanie. We almost got hurt out there, and this is how you treat me.” It was my turn to puff my cheeks.

Seeing my reaction, Varis softened, reached out with a hand, and patted me on the head. “I’m sorry.” He sighed and smiled. “I’m happy you’re okay,” he said before yanking me into another, back-breaking hug. “Next time, take me with you!”

“Gyak!” I gasped as the air was forced from my lungs, and my back audibly popped.

“Varis!” My mother scolded. “Let her go,” she ordered, though a faint twinkle was in her eye as our parents began to come upstairs.

Varis chuckled and released me as I groaned and wobbled where I stood, regaining my balance I sighed and moved out of the way so my parents and Isa could move past me. “Where’s aunt Saria and uncle Aenorin?” I asked as I peeked into the living room and kitchen.

“Gone,” My mother said the twinkle fading from her expression. “Before the attack, she left, saying she was going to meet up with that arch-shithead—I mean bishop.” She cleared her throat and blushed while Varis and I giggled at my mother’s loose vulgarity. “Aenorin had to work… I don’t know if they’re okay or not, but…” She trailed off as she collected her thoughts. “It’s good the three of you returned because—”

“Oh, oh!” Varis waved his left arm into the air as if he were in school. “The letter, the letter!”

Father and Isa frowned. “What letter?” They both said to share a look.

I pursed my lips and said, “Did we get mail?”

My mother sighed and nodded. “Sort of, it’s more like you got mail,” she said, looking directly at me.

My mouth fell open, and I tilted my head. “Huh?”

----------------------------------------

We gathered in the dining room. There was a loose sheet of parchment in the center of the table, around bowls of partially eaten oatmeal my mother and brother must’ve had before the attack. Yet, there is no ordinary parchment. It looked like a piece of torn paper as if ripped from a book; on it was what looked to be a hastily scrawled message directed not to me but to my mother and a “Dreamer.”

To whom resides in this residence,

The ones you wait for, and the dreamer will arrive at exactly three thirty. The foolish one you know as Saria will reach the Ewigkeit plant in ten minutes as of the dreamer reading this message. To reach the plant, you’ll need to travel northeast towards Helmsworth. When reaching Heinland Road, travel east towards the edge of town. Moving now by strider, you’ll reach the plant’s tunnel entrance in about twenty minutes. Do not worry about qualifications; there will be no guards. Move hastily, Dreamer, or else the enemy will grow.

A Friend.

“What the heck?” I muttered under my breath as I read the letter not once, but twice. My eyes darted from left to right, and then, without warning, my skirt pocket began to vibrate. The caster I had used to contact Anne just before the attack began to buzz hard. The sensation caused me to jerk, and as my hand reached for my pocket, my family’s eyes widened a bit as I frantically dug the magical phone from my pocket and opened it.

“Anne?” I was expecting to see my friend, yet instead, all I saw was darkness. But then white lines began to appear, and my heart began to quicken as the lines began to morph and shift themselves into words.

“What is taking you so long?” The words read: “You were supposed to read it once and start moving!”

My eyes widened, and I was slackjawed. “Whaaa?” Was all I heard coming from my mouth as my mind failed to form words. It was like my brain had short-circuited; my father and Isa came over to my side as my mother looked at me equally confused.

“You’re going to catch bugs with your mouth hung so loosely, knife ear; you need to move. Now.” Then, in all caps, “NOW!”

“M-My caster is yelling at me!” That was all I could say, as my mind was still reeling from all of this.

My father carefully reached down and plucked the device from my hand and said, “Who the hell is this? Who are you?”

“Of course, a blubbering child is what we have to work with,” the mysterious individual speaking through the device lamented. “Of all times, why couldn’t they be older?”

“That child is my daughter, asshole.” My father growled, not caring for Varis, and I could hear him curse. “Who are you?”

“Ugh, fine, I guess we can settle for you.” The caster wrote as I nervously stretched on my tiptoes to see what they were saying. “We do not have time to explain. All you wannabe heroes need–”

“Wannabes?’ My father scoffed.

"Well, it’s true,” the device scribbled. “Anyways, you have roughly forty minutes before everything goes to shit. And we need you to get your little dreamer moving. Like… now… right now… NOW! NOW!”

“Papa, what’s happening?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Luna,” he said. “Is this that Master guy? The Dark Lord?”

“Ha!” The caster vibrated as it wrote as if it were laughing. “Pssh, please. Nah, I’m better than that guy. He’s such a loser, anyway. Chop, chop. You’re running out of time.”

I shook my head. Why does it keep saying we or I?

Isa leaned forward. “Are they the ones who wrote the letter?” She gestured to the paper.

“Wooow!” The caster scrawled and buzzed. “Give that cat some nip. They’re kind of smart! Yes! Who else, you idiots?! Do you want to all die? Tick tock!” Suddenly the text swirled, and in its place, a countdown timer appeared, showing thirty-nine minutes and counting down.

“Cailynn,” my father growled. “I’m about to throw this thing out the window.”

“Don’t!” I blurted. “That’s mine. I don’t want to lose it.” I sighed. “Mr. Caster thing,” I said, “we can’t leave because the army has a curfew.”

“Pssh, please. Nothing stopped you from breaking the rules before. Rules and laws, heh, they’re all just… suggestions.”

“I don’t think this is a nice guy,” Varis mumbled.

The text swirled once again as it began to write quickly as my father read, “The local guard and soldiers are scrambling. Panicking, really, many high ranking Yanky officials who were meant to take over operations were killed in the recent attack. Soldiers are struggling to cordon off sections of the city. The section you are all in is here.”

“Holy shit!” My father gasped as he showed us the caster screen, and on it was a massive map of the city, almost like that of a GPS, and a blinking pink dot was smack dab where we are now.

On the display, the caster wrote, “Where you are situated now, only a single defense batallion is stationed in your district, which extends to this size.” A massive purple area taking up the southeastern part of the city flashed. “The battalion has yet to fully block off the borders of this district, but if we keep her lolly gagging and playing fucking twenty questions, you’ll run out of time, and everyone will DIE.”

My brother whimpered and shrank away as my mother wrapped her arm around him and hugged him gently. “Slyran, I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” he said.

"Well, that’s because you aren’t supposed to like this,” The being in my caster wrote. “None of us like this. But it’s the truth. If you don’t get that little dreamer, Luna, to that pathetic excuse for a power plant, Everyone is dead. EVERYONE. Sheesh lo weese. I swear mortals are getting weaker and dumber by the day.”

“Why are you such an asshole?” My father asked.

“Why are you asking stupid questions? Take the facts I gave you. And move!”

My mind was spinning. So much was happening I couldn’t comprehend, and this time I’m not blaming my little kid's mind or body. Judging by my parent's reactions, even past life adult me would’ve been just as confused. Almost an hour ago, our city was bombed. My mother got a mystery note, and the second I read it, this thing is now talking to us.

My mind couldn’t help but wander back in time to when I used to play video games. It’s been a while since I thought about those, and I couldn’t help but make the connection as if we just triggered a cutscene. It was so jarring; it was like whoever this was knew. Well, they did. The paper had the exact time, to the minute, to when Father, Isa, and I would arrive, as well as the times at which my aunt was supposed to arrive at the plant, and then this thing was messaging us.

Were we being watched? Was this guy nearby? I saw no one coming in. The thing mentioned the Dark Lord as if they were a friend, or maybe even an equal; well, no. They said they were better than them, but fuck, I used to say shit like that when jokingly referring to my friends.

Maybe they were one of the apostles.

“Papa, can I see the caster?” I asked, and he hesitated for a second and passed it to me. When I grabbed it, I saw whoever was messaging us was angrily scrawling.

“Oh yes, the dreaming child has more questions–”

“Caster guy–”

It suddenly erased the text and wrote in all caps. “THAT’S NOT MY NAME!”

“You never told us your name, dumbass,” I said, forgetting my parents were right next to me.

My mother gasped, “Luna–” though my father held a hand up to her with an expression saying he’d let this one slide.

“Dumb… ass…?” The text was written slowly.

I had a feeling it was about to go off on me. Before it could, I continued, “Is this related to what the Master wants me to do, and does this relate to stopping the apostles?”

The caster didn’t respond immediately.

“Hello?” I said anxiously.

“Yes! By the universe, yes, it does! Go get yourself a snack, little one, because you just connected all the dots!” It wrote as little stars and confetti lines appeared on the small caster screen. Then suddenly it went black, and in its place, small text appeared: “Indeed. Now, if you wish to waste all of our time here and possibly our lives, I suggest you get moving. Saria and Arch-shit-head are nearing the plant’s entrance.”

I blinked, disregarding that the thing used the same insult my mother had for the archbishop. “Okay,” I said, looking at my family. “I have no idea what’s going on, but this seems to be related to the Master.”

“This has to be some kind of trick,” my mother said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Whatever this thing is, it’s asking for trouble.” She bit her lower lip, her eyes shifting from the device to me. I could see by her face that she was dreading the idea of me running out there again. “I should go; Luna, you stay—”

“Negative, Nancy,” The caster buzzed and grabbed my attention. “The little dreamer here needs to go. Not taking her will make matters difficult.” I turned the caster to show my mother, and she cursed.

“You’re kidding me?!” She gripped her fists.

"Sadly, it’s not comedy hour; no jokes. Only facts and time that is running out.”

“We know!” My father barked, his frustration getting the better of him. “You can’t just spring all of this information on us and expect us to just decide.”

"Well, surely, soldier boy, you’ve had less information in the past and made things work.”

“You know nothing about me,” my father growled.

“That you know of.” The caster wrote, and to my utter shock, it added a winky face at the end. A fucking winky face.

My father looked at me. “Luna, please, let me throw it out the window.”

I nervously chuckled and shook my head. “Sorry, but I think… I think we should put our trust in this.”

“You’re kidding me?” Isa spoke up. “Luna, whatever this is, it can’t be trusted.”

“The master couldn’t be trusted at first, and look what he did for us,” I said. “He got us out alive because he knew stuff we didn’t. Who’s to say this… caster guy isn’t the same?”

“That’s not my name!” It was written again.

“Then what is it?” I growled at it.

“A friend. Please, call me friend."

“No.” I gritted my teeth.

“Comrade?”

“Nuh-huh.”

“Amigo?”

I reared my head back. Mother fucker is speaking Spanish?

It then wrote: “A bit too on the nose; how about, Ami?”

“You just shortened it!” I said.

“No, dummy. It’s French for… friend.”

“Fine, whatever…” I said, then jolted. “Wait, French?!”

“What the hell is French?” My father asked.

I gripped my chin and began racking my brain. “The man from earlier, that Lucy guy–”

“Lucie–!” The thing started to write before quickly erasing itself. “What do you mean?”

“I caught that, you jerk!” I growled. “Okay, now I know something. You and that blue coat guy,” I said, recalling that Lucy guy wearing a blue outfit. “You guys work together?”

“If I said yes, would that get you moving?”

“He was with the archbishop!” I nearly shrieked, and my family stepped back. “You expect us to trust you if you’re working with him?”

“HEY, KIDDO!” Ami wrote back in all caps. “I never said I was working with them. I have information you don’t; either we can sit here and keep playing Akinator or any other form of twenty questions. Or you can, I don’t know, get off your ass, trust me, and help save the city! DUH!”

It then switched back to the countdown timer. Thirty-five minutes and counting down.

“We need to make a choice,” I muttered, and the thing in my hand buzzed.

“Finally!” It wrote.

“Luna, things out there are not going to be easy,” my father muttered.

I nodded. “I know. Yet, the Master wanted us to go through anyways, and well…” Whoever this was. They seemed to know what they were talking about and could help. Besides, they knew how to reach the heart. “Ami here." I shook the caster. "if that’s what they want to be called.”

“Si.” it wrote.

I continued, “They provided us the directions, and they seem to know about the inner workings of what the military is doing… Ami,” I said, “do you know the safest and fastest route?” I asked, hoping whoever they were could use that map trick again.

“Yes, but due to your blah blah blahing, we’ve lost the most efficient route. Now, we’ll need to use the second best route. If you go right NOW, we can get there in about twenty five minutes, which is cutting things too close.”

I gulped and looked at my father. “I say we get Ruby ready, and without the wagon.”

“We don’t have a saddle for her,” my mother said, and my father held a hand up.

“I think we can make due, dear,” he said, looking to Isa. “If we take just Ruby, then only one of us can go with you, Luna.”

“That’s fine,” I said, biting my lower lip. “Momma, I want you to come.”

My mother’s eyes widened. “Me? I-I should be the one who’s choosing who goes–”

“It doesn't matter, Cailynn; you make the most sense anyway,” My father said, “You know more about magic than any of us here. Where you guys are going, I think that knowledge is paramount.”

“Agreed,” Ami wrote on the caster. “Though your knowledge of magic is quite… primitive, The basics you all know will help.”

“Why are you such a jerk?” I asked as my parents briefly bickered.

“Because,” Ami replied, ‘it’s only natural that someone of my standards should feel such a distaste for having to lower themselves down to mortal levels. Except for you, you’re cool.”

“Huh?” I bit my lip shook my head and shrugged. “Okay, whatever… my brain hurts.”

“Already?” Ami wrote. “We haven’t even started yet because of your squabbling.”

“We’re working on it!” I growled.

What the hell has my new life become? Can’t I just go back to living a normal life again?