Scott came to his senses as he witnessed Lou yell and fall on his side. As he lay there, trying to get up, a person wearing a white mask with crimson tear-stains dripping from the eye slits and long mud-stained silver hair rushed in from the dense fog. Grabbing the changeling by the back of the neck, the masked man threw him away from me with ease. On his hip was an arming sword, barely hidden under the side of his torn and tattered coat. His arms and shins bore plate armor that glowed a faint purple' as if they were magical.

“What the hell!? Who are you?” the changeling asked, as he got up, but the masked man said nothing. He only drew his sword dramatically and strided towards the changeling with a haunting aura. The changeling, realizing that it probably didn’t stand a chance, got up and ran away, morphing into a cat as it made its escape. The masked man stopped his stride as soon as the changeling was beyond his sight. Because Scott was awake, he saw most of it. Sitting up as the masked man strolled up to him, Scott tried to look as if he were minding his own business in an attempt to avoid him.

“Forget you saw anything, for your own sake, if not his,” the masked man said to Scott, before gesturing at me and disappearing into the fog like a phantom.

Quickly standing up, Scott ran over to my body. “Please stay alive till I can get you help,” he said, as he picked me up and carried me off into the foggy London streets. My blood dripped slowly onto his coat, as his shoes clicked on the cobblestone street.

***

I heard voices, one I recognized as Scott’s sarcastic voice, and the other was a woman with an equally sarcastic tone, but it almost sounded angelic in comparison to Scott’s gruff one. The two were discussing something, but I couldn’t hear what. The only words I could hear were “mask” and “disappeared”. Opening my eyes, I saw a strange light hanging above me. It was similar to a lightbulb, but those hadn’t been invented yet, so what was it? It blinded me momentarily, before the woman whose voice I had been hearing stuck her head between me and the light. “Ahh, you’re finally awake,” she said in a calm voice, very unlike the sarcastic tone I heard earlier, before she pulled her head away.

“Where am I?” I asked, trying to sit up, but instead was met with a lot of pain in my gut. Having forgotten that I had been stabbed, I laid back down with a groan and a pained chuckle.

“I see you’re feeling better already,” Scott said sarcastically with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“Well, fuck you too,” I replied as we both began to chuckle. It was now that I realized the doctor wasn’t wearing the normal clothes that women of this era would normally wear, but in fact, was wearing a dark brown suit. Was that common doctor attire in this time period, or was it a personal choice? I couldn’t tell, and didn’t really care.

The suit itself was similar to that of a businessman or a banker, except the coat was hanging on the wall and she had no tie. She was standing beside me at the bed, table, or whatever I was on whilst rolling her eyes at our attempts to laugh off the pain. Although I couldn’t see her face, due to the strong light, I could make out a slender frame that was around a full head shorter than Scott's.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I am Lou Barrett,” I said, extending out my hand for a handshake as I was laying down. It wasn’t very proper, but I couldn’t sit up, so this was the best I could do.

“Elysif Avian,” she said, shaking my hand. “I am surprised, you’re the first person I have worked on who didn’t ask if I was qualified to heal them,” she said before turning to Scott. “You bring in some weird people.”

“I don’t see why anyone would ask if you were qualified? Should I have?” I asked with a confused and subtly worried look.

“Usually, they're concerned that a woman is a doctor,” Elysif replied with a matter-of-fact huff, before stepping away from the table-bed-thing.

“I don’t see what that has to do with your qualifications,” I said honestly. She smugly turned to Scott, revealing to me her tired and darkened eyes.

“I like him,” Elysif said to Scott with a proud look.

“Whatever, can you fix him or not? I know you’ve stabilized him already, but will he pull through?” Scott asked. I was worried now that my life was being brought up. I thought she had already taken care of me?

“I am a witch, not God. I can only heal him to a point, he will need rest to heal what I cannot,” Elysif replied.

“Okay, do what you can. Kid, I am heading to Mama Louise’s to tell her what happened, and then to Iscariot’s to see if he can track the changeling. I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” Scott said, before stepping out the door. After a few minutes of watching Elysif mix ingredients in a bowl, I decided to speak up. “I thought you were a witch. Aren’t you just practicing normal medicine and doing what doctors do?” I asked, as it was probably a normal practice for the time.

She continued with what she was mixing as she replied, “Doctors make medicine from what they find in the realm of humans, such as plants or minerals. I mix parts of magical creatures and the supernatural to make powerful cures and potions. I also throw in a little of my own magic to enhance the medicinal properties and speed up the healing process. If I wanted to, I could cure you with magic alone, but I would be so tired from it I would probably sleep for a week,” Elysif explained.

“I see… So that’s the difference. How long do you think it will take to heal?” I asked now that I understood what she was doing.

“I have already stopped the bleeding and sutured your organs back together. As for completely healing your damaged organs? It will take a splash of this potion that I am brewing and a few days of rest,” she said without any doubt in her voice.

“Well, that’s good.”

“Now a question for you. How did you meet Scott?” Elysif asked curiously.

“He saved me from some changelings, and I killed one of them, so he took me under his wing, I guess. All this supernatural stuff is new to me, so it’s a little strange,” I replied. It was the honest truth, weird as it was.

“You killed a changeling without ever knowing they existed in the first place? That’s impressive,” she said, her eyes bulging in response with disbelief.

“Yeah, well... Now I know that a ton of monsters exist, and so does magic. It’s a lot to take in,” I said with a tired sigh.

“I would expect that it would be. I was raised in a witch's coven, so I knew about all that stuff from birth. I guess I can’t relate,” she said before standing up from her workspace and sauntering back towards me. I didn’t realize it before due to the lighting, but she was quite beautiful. Elysif sported short brown hair that hung down to her shoulders in the front, with a ponytail at the back and a tanned face. Her eyes were a light brown, but seemed to glow orange in the light of whatever that device hanging above me was. Her mouth was small, and her lips were naturally a bright red that faded perfectly with her tan face. She was like an angel.

“Well, it’s not too much of a shock… Aagh—” I shrieked as she dumped the contents of her potion onto my wound. It burned like fire on a petrol soaked carpet.

“Maybe, I should have given you an anesthetic?” she asked herself aloud quizzically.

“You think!” I shrilled sarcastically as the burning sensation continued. When it finally stopped, I sat up without any pain and looked over my wound. It was gone! Why am I even surprised anymore? I found out that magic was real. At this point, I could probably meet God and not be fazed.

“You scream like a bitch,” she said, whilst poorly attempting to cover her smile with her right hand. I take back what I thought. She was no angel, but the devil.

***

Scott Langston stood in front of the old battered door of a second-floor apartment building in Farringdon. If he had opened the door, it would have opened up to a small family enjoying dinner, but instead, he inserted a key into the lock on the door, and turned it to lock the door. Rather than a click of the lock, he heard a cackle that still freaked him out no matter how many times he heard it. However, it signaled that if he knocked on the door, Iscariot would hear the knock instead of the family. Knocking on the door, Scott waited as it rumbled with what sounded like a thousand bolt locks being slid away, and the door opened. Standing in front of him was a very annoyed and tired Iscariot.

“What did I tell you, Scott? You have only been gone for a couple of hours in my time. I need my bloody damn sleep,” he said angrily before letting out a tired yawn.

“I know and I apologize. It was urgent that I spoke with you,” Scott said.

“What could be that important?” Iscariot asked grouchily.

“We were attacked, and the kid was injured by the changeling,” Scott said, making Iscariot regret his words.

“Did you take him to that witch, Elysif?” Iscariot asked with a somewhat distorted and urgent tone.

“Yes, he should be fine. Although, he would have died otherwise,” Scott said.

“I feel like death would have been better for him than leaving him with that witch,” Iscariot said sympathetically.

“Don’t worry, he passed her test. She will go easy on him… I hope,” Scott reassured him… somewhat. The two sighed as if to give their condolences, before Iscariot gave him a groggy but stern look.

“But you didn’t come here just because of that. There’s more?” Iscariot said, knowing that he wouldn’t have come here just to tell him that.

“Yep, that changeling might be connected to a scheme against Mama Louise, hatched by a splinter group of the Leprechauns,” Scott explained.

“So, why should I care about that? Take that to your higher-ups. It’s none of my bloody business that a brothel and a bank are at war,” Iscariot stated firmly as he waved him off.

“... Sir Micheal was there too,” Scott finally said, the image of the masked man he saw was vivid in his mind.

“...” Iscariot just stood there contemplating the words that left Scott’s mouth. Then, he finally spoke with a very concerned look on his face, “Did you get struck in the head?”

“He saved me and the kid from the changeling. Then, he disappeared before my eyes, unlike any supernatural being I’ve ever seen,” Scott said with the most bewildered look.

“I think that you’re losing it. Sir Micheal is a Table legend, a story to make the Table more wary of situations when they don’t need to be. However, if Sir Micheal has actually appeared, then I can only assume that something interesting is about to happen within the Table. Legend states that he was the last of King Arthur's knights. An immortal man who is believed to have killed Arthur himself. So, before you say it was this legendary boogeyman, you should make sure it was him?” Iscariot said as if lamenting a past that he would have never seen.

“I do believe that it was him. He matched the old paintings and his descriptions to the letter,” Scott said to affirm Iscariot.

“Then we should do nothing except protect ourselves,” Iscariot said, climbing back into bed.

“What the hell!” Scott said with a confused look, grabbing Iscariot and pulling him out of bed. “What do you mean, nothing? We should tell the Table at least.”

Iscariot got up from the floor, dazed, and stared him in the eyes as he tried climbing back into bed again. “Sir Micheal has appeared in the legends very few times. All but the times during the Round Table's existence are skeptical sightings by the Head Consul with few casualties, so we should do nothing. It could be related to Mr. Barrett and his time travel accident, or it could be completely unrelated. Who knows? Just protect yourselves and don’t worry too much,” Iscariot said as he tried to get comfortable again under the covers.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

“Fine, but the Table needs to know about this little war. I spoke to Mama Louise about the situation and she had one of her own executed in front of me to show that war was beginning. Although the one she executed was a traitor, I did not want to see that. She is a terrifying lady,” Scott said with a winded expression.

“So are you when you need to be,” Iscariot said with a yawn, as he got snug underneath his blanket.

“Well, I will see you in a fortnight, my sleepy friend,” Scott said as he got up and left, shutting the door behind him and taking his key from the lock. Returning the door to that of the families who were now behind it, cleaning up from their meal.

***

As I looked around at Elysif’s home, I saw that it was a mix of clean and messy. The area we were in was as pristine as any hospital, and it even had that rubbing alcohol smell, but in the corner was a large stack of files, books, and random papers. Other than us and the operating table, there was a lone desk and a counter covered in surgical tools, along with another counter covered in herbs and spices for her medicines. Much of the dining room sat vacant, other than a table and various dirty pots and pans. As for her bedroom, I didn’t know. The door was closed, and I did not have any reason to check inside. Then, there was the living room, which wasn’t that bad. In fact, it looked to be rather homey.

Elysif sat at her desk with a mostly bored face, or she was deep in thought... I wasn’t sure, but she looked as if she was staring off into space for no real reason. I was about to ask her about witches, when she turned towards me with a smile. Despite my more recent opinions of her, she wasn’t bad at all. In fact, she seemed to be a regular person who just happened to be a magic doctor.

“Would you like some tea?” she finally asked to break the silence of our mutual boredom-induced dissonance.

“Yes, please. If you need any help with anything, tell me, because I am rather bored,” I replied eagerly, as I was parched, but far too nervous to ask for a drink.

“As am I. I wouldn’t be making tea otherwise,” she replied in a snarky tone.

“You don’t fancy tea?” I asked questionably, as I assumed that most British people enjoyed the drink; it was odd to meet one who didn’t.

“I enjoy it. I just don’t enjoy making tea. It takes several minutes, in which you are eagerly waiting for the water to get to the right temperature. During those few minutes it feels like an eternity, and I hate moments like those,” Elysif said with a relatable aura.

“I can agree with that, when time seems to slow down, it feels like forever, and that isn’t the best feeling. I think Einstein said it best, as time is relative. Sometimes it’s relatively slow,” I said, hoping to further the conversation.

She gave her head a curious tilt as she raised her voice, ”Who’s Einstein?”

Oh, right... Einstein probably hasn’t been born yet. I should have thought about that. “He is a famous physicist from the future. You wouldn’t know of him, sorry,” I said. Why did I keep forgetting that no one is going to understand my references?

“Scott did say that you’re from the future. I don’t believe him, but he rarely lies… at least, not since I’ve known him. Are you really from the future?” Elysif said as if she was thinking back.

“Yes, I just sort of walked into this time period,” I said, throwing my hands up in an "I don’t know" gesture.

“Could it be magic that sent you here?” Elysif asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe, but I don’t know much about it,” I replied. There really was no way for me to know at the moment.

“Could you describe the experience?” Elysif said in a professional doctor's fashion.

“I walked through an alleyway and ended up in 1888,” I said frankly. I didn’t know what else to tell her.

“Well, then do you mind if I cut you open and see if I can figure out what sent you here?” Elysif asked with a look that I could only describe as pure desire. Did she actually want to cut me open? I really hope not.

I gave her a dumbfounded look as if I had just heard someone tell me they were God. “What? No! Are you crazy?” I asked blatantly.

“That's not a very nice thing to call a lady,” she said, almost taken back.

“Hey, I am gonna speak the truth. Because it doesn’t matter what gender you are, if you want to cut someone open just to figure out something, then you’re crazy,” I said earnestly as I stood up. She lowered her head into her hands as she sat in her chair. Oh, no, is she crying? I could hear her crying through her hands. Shit. I just met this girl and I already made her cry, even after she just saved my life. “Hey, look I didn’t mean to sound so aggressive,” I started to say, but then she raised her head from her hands and she was laughing like a madwoman. She wasn’t crying, damn it, she was actually crazy.

“You are an odd one. No man in this time period would act that way. Even Scott, who is as callous as they come, treats women differently than men. You, on the other hand, are the same to both with no difference between the two. You didn’t even care that a woman was the one doctoring you up.” She cackled before calming down.

“Why would I care? It doesn’t matter who you are, people are people, and you treat them all the same,” I said.

“Ah, I wish I could live in your time. What year did you come from, again?” she asked.

“Late 2019,” I answered.

“Well, that sucks. I’ll be dead by then. Are you sure you don’t want to try an experiment to send us both to your timeline? It could only require me looking at what's inside you?” Elysif asked, as if she were pleading in a roundabout way. Though something about the way she said that last sentence had me concerned.

“I am sure,” I said. Scott, please come pick me up, this woman is freaking me out.

***

Not even three hours later, Scott opened the door to Elysif’s flat and instantly was greeted by me running in front of him. “Scott, stop him!” Elysif shouted from across the room.

“Why?” he asked, wandering in and hanging his coat on the coat rack calmly.

“She has been trying to dissect me for the past hour and a half,” I yelled as I ran around a table to avoid her.

He cocked an eyebrow and pulled out his flask. Taking a swig, he let out a deep and heavy sigh. “I am too sober for this,” Scott mumbled to himself, before yelling to Elysif, “I’m disappointed in you, Elysif. I would have thought that you would have caught him by now?”

“Scott, you ass! Help me!” I shrilled at him, as I dove out of Elysif’s way, while she attempted a tackle. Rather than tackling me, she crashed into a loveseat that sat in her living room with a mix of annoyance and pleasure. Because of this, she got up and began to chase me again.

“Well, he is a slippery bugger,” she replied to Scott. Scott reasonably ignored her and meandered into her living room so he could sit down, only to turn right back around and strut towards her examination room that I originally woke up in. Her living room had become a mess by this point, due to me trying to avoid being dissected. There were several pieces of furniture flung around and currently resting in some odd positions.

“I’m guessing that you now believe that he is from the future, so you are trying to dissect him?” Scott asked Elysif from the examination room as he pulled out a pipe and began stuffing it with tobacco.

“Well, I won’t believe he is from the future until I see some proof; and that watch of his isn’t enough proof,” she replied as she chucked several scalpels at me.

“I don’t care if you want proof that I am from the future, just please don’t cut me open; and Scott, don't smoke in here!” I yelled as I avoided the medical blades flying in my direction.

“Why can’t I smoke? It doesn’t hurt anyone. In fact, it’s medicinal,” Scott said before lighting a match.

“Actually, smoking causes asthma and cancer. On top of that, it’s worse for nonsmokers to be around smokers due to secondhand smoking,” I explained as I ran past the examination room. Scott stopped the match right before he touched it to his pipe bowl. Setting the pipe down, Scott blew the match out and marched into the room that Elysif and I were currently in. Just as Elysif ran towards him in an attempt to get closer to me, Scott flung out his arm. In one swift motion, he grabbed her and pressed her into the wall. Planting his right arm beside her head, he looked her in the eyes.

“You lied to me. You said that smoking would stop my cough. But I find out from future boy that it’s the exact opposite. Did you do that on purpose?” he asked in a soft but furious tone. To me, it was like watching a romantic drama or perhaps a detective show. She stood there for a moment, fidgeting before stuttering out.

“Do y—you really believe he is from the future?” Elysif asked in hopes of deterring the conversation, and also to gauge whether Scott was willing to believe me or not.

“Iscariot believes, so and that’s good enough for me,” Scott replied.

“W—well, you know medicine isn’t an exact science. Doctors learn new things every day and... sometimes they're wrong,” she stammered out.

“Well, there goes one habit,” he said before stepping away from Elysif in a show of disbelief. “What’s next, that my booze is killing me?” Scott asked sarcastically.

“Well, it kind of is. It is easily destroying your liver, especially with how much you drink,” I replied.

“I… Well, then my liver is going to die,” he stated stubbornly as he lifted up his flask, taking another swig of his booze. “Hey Elysif, do I need my liver?”

“Yes,” she said, as if it were a stupid question.

“Can you get me a new one if I destroy this one?” he asked with absolute deadpan.

“Yes, but I don’t know if you would survive,” Elysif said with a fairly concerned expression.

“That’s good enough for me. Come on, Lou, we're going to the flat to rest for a while, then it’s back to Whitechapel,” Scott said, grabbing his coat from the coat rack and then turning to Elysif and saying, “Thank you for watching him.”

“You’re welcome, but don’t come back here unless you’re dying, got it?” Elysif stated with an annoyed look.

“Yes, I know,” he said, as he stepped out the door which happened to lead to the bottom floor of our apartment. I trailed behind him out the door and waved back to Elysif.

“Thank you for not dissecting me,” I said to her sarcastically, only to get another scalpel thrown at me. There was barely any time to dodge it, ducking to the side enough to only receive a small nick to my hand. It was the same hand that Iscariot stabbed too. Man, what did my hand do to deserve this? The magic potion she poured on me healed most of my wounds, but this one was stubborn and was only scabbed over.

Because Elysif was on the first floor of the apartment building, all we had to do was go up the stairs. There was also a second flat on the second floor, but it was just used for storage. Due to this, Elysif’s place was much larger than ours. I wondered if the Table gave shitty pay, or if Scott just spent it all on booze? I will probably never know. Of course, I was just happy that I didn’t have to walk too far, my intestines still burned like Hell, even though they were technically healed. Only realizing it now, I was in a lot of pain from running. She did give me a lot of pain relievers after I kept whining about it, though, telling me that it would hurt like a bitch in a few hours. She also said that if it did start to hurt, I should start drinking heavily as she wasn’t going to be giving me any more pain relievers for a while. Upon entering Scott’s place, I was greeted with the same couch that I slept in earlier, and on it, a pile of sheets, blankets, and pillows.

“What are these?” I asked.

“They're yours. I bought them for you to use on the bed in that other room, but it’s coming out of your pay,” Scott said with a crass but somewhat thoughtful tone. It felt distant, but I couldn’t figure out why.

“Aren’t there blankets and pillows on the bed already?” I asked, wondering why he had got them for me.

“There are, but they are covered in stains, and I don’t even know how old they are anymore,” he said, trudging over to his desk and reaching for a bottle of booze underneath it. Chugging some of it from the bottle, Scott let out a refreshing “ah”, before pouring some into his flask. It was very noticeable that Scott has a serious drinking problem. Have AA meetings been invented yet? I didn’t know, but after filling his flask, he meandered into his bedroom, followed by the sound of him almost body-slamming the bed.

“I see,” I said, as I was also tired, so I grabbed the pile of pillows, blanket, and sheets to make my bed. After making the bed, I laid down for the first proper sleep since I had arrived. There weren’t going to be any more crazy old people, changelings, or psycho doctors waking me up.

***

A few days had passed by with nothing notable to mention. Scott has been giving me combat training in the afternoons, and then we scout out Whitechapel until four in the morning. It took me a few days to get used to the new schedule, but it’s not that bad. As for my training… Scott is near impossible to hit, even when he is drunk. Which is all the time. It’s like he uses that martial art skill from the movies that only drunk people can master. Whatever it was, my training consisted of me getting my ass kicked for a while, and then me teaching myself how to control my knife when I’m alone.

We had our usual patrols around Whitechapel, which are all-around boring. The only thing we have to worry about are drunks looking for a fight, and prostitutes trying to get in our pants. Of course, you show them a badge, and they back off... even if it isn’t a police badge. The Table did send me a badge of my own a day or two after we started this routine, and Scott showed me his. They looked the same as both were made of an iron and silver blend with bold letters inscribed at the top which read “Table Officer'' along with my name. The only major difference was that mine had one star at the bottom, while Scott’s had four. There was enough room for five stars in total on each badge.

“What are the stars for?” I asked.

“They show your rank. You only have one star because you just started, while I have four because I have been with the Table a while,” Scott explained.

“How do you move up in rank?” I wondered out loud.

“You could either be with the Table for ten years in order to move up one star, or you could do something that catches the eyes of a higher up. You could also be shady and be granted a higher rank due to a job being too difficult, so that if you die it looks like you were competent. I used to be five stars along with my wife, but that was a long time ago, before she died,” Scott said with a solemn look that had me pitying him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you to think about something as sad as that,” I said apologetically.

“Don’t be, I love thinking of my wife. She made me happy and it reminds me of a time when I didn’t want to forget everything,” Scott said with a rather fake smile.

“I somewhat heard about what happened from Isabell... That either your wife or your partner was killed by a werewolf,” I said, bringing up what Isabell had told me before she died.

He stopped and looked at me. “It was both my wife and my partner. They were one and the same. I know where this conversation is going to go, so let’s stop,” he said sternly, continuing down the road with a quicker stride. That was the only notable thing I could get out of him at the time, but it was something, at least.