Cameron scarfed down the meal as if he might never get to eat again. A full meal was always a rare and wonderful blessing to him. He'd already suffered several of those since waking above Elaine's shop, and it put him on guard.

New clothes, which he hadn't had since several foster homes ago. A hot shower, which was a stark and welcome contrast to his quick rub-downs with wet cloths in public restrooms. An actual meal, which he hadn't had in months because even though he had money, it was hard being a small twelve-year-old boy on the streets.

Even with the voices guiding him.

He knew Elaine figured out what his magic was. He hadn't meant to start when she gave the list of the five lone schools. The moment he did, he saw the realization in her eyes and sensed it in her mind.

Right before she attempted to guard against him.

It didn't do much. He knew from her attempt that she couldn't use mind magics and had no idea how to properly guard against him. He almost laughed at her attempt but thought that would be rude. The next hour consisted of her attempting to get information about him, and all he gave was his name and that he'd lived on the streets for awhile.

She couldn't even get his last name or where he'd been a week before out of him. Cameron had become adept at not answering questions. After all, no one could get answers if he simply didn't answer. No one could force answers out of him.

Well, another mind mage probably could, but he could tell both she and Suzanne weren't. At least, he didn't think Suzanne was one.

He also didn't like Suzanne. She seemed moody and mean to him.

"Suzanne," Elaine said, looking to the younger woman. "Would you mind opening the shop again? We've had it closed a little too much today."

Suzanne left, and Cameron watched her until she was out of his sight, though he made sure Elaine remained in his range of awareness. He opened his mind up a bit more so that he could sense the first floor again.

"You know my roots," he said once Suzanne was downstairs, his gaze meeting Elaine's.

Something felt off to him about the situation, and it made him even more suspicious. Elaine seemed way too calm to him. There was confidence in her mind as well.

"Yes," she admitted. "I take it you're a telepath?"

"No," he answered. "I'm not telling you what I am. Now. What do you want with me?"

"There are your mithril balls again, Cameron."

"Nice, shiny mithril balls."

"You could probably sell them for a fortune."

Cameron did his best to tune out the voices as he stared at Elaine with as much intensity as he could. He'd finished his meal and was prepared to bolt at any moment. He knew she might have a way to stop him – he already suspected she was the reason he kept tripping back when they met on the sidewalk outside – but that didn't mean he wouldn't give it a try.

"I give lessons," she said. "To magicians who don't want to register with the government. I don't align with any side and keep to my own. If you wish, I will take you on as a student."

"I can't afford lessons."

"Then you can do work for me," she told him. "I have a spare room here that you can use. I won't be able to teach you how to harness your gift, though I can teach you what little I know of force magic. It's only basic spells, but it will be the easiest for you to learn with what your root is. The only mentors I know of who can teach you in your natural school are government teachers."

"No government," Cameron said. "What if I refuse?"

"Then we let you leave," she answered. "And that's that."

"What kind of work?" He asked suspiciously.

"Helping around the shop," she explained. "We also have a small garden out back that you'd assist me in caring for. If you prove responsible enough, I'll also teach you how to make some of the salves, lotions, potions, and other things we sell in the shop."

"You should totally accept."

"Totally."

"Though she's a bit suspicious, you could probably stab her in her sleep."

"There are plenty of knives in the kitchen, and they're all sharp, too!"

"Just take one and-"

"WILL YOU SHUT UP?" Cameron snapped, then stared at Elaine in horror, clamping his hand over his mouth.

He had never snapped like that before, especially not at the voices. He'd learned to tune them out when they got like that.

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Elaine felt both shocked and impressed. Cameron had lasted more than an hour before the serum she'd dripped into his drink finally caused him to simply say what he wanted to, how he wanted to. It was rare for someone to resist her compulsion serum for that long, and it only lasted for around two hours. The boy had an iron will to resist it.

It took her a moment to register that his outburst didn't seem to be directed at her. In fact, his right ear had twitched a little, almost as if listening to a voice, just before the outburst.

Stolen story; please report.

"Don't worry," she smiled at him. "Everyone has that little voice in their head."

"This isn't one voice," he grunted, removing his hand. "It's many. And they won't. Shut. Up. They also say you slipped a little truth serum into my drink to make me say the truth, and fuck, it's hard to resist. What the hell? You're a bitch. What the hell did you do to me?"

She could tell Cameron was pissed. Only one she had ever used it on before found out without her telling them. It was subtle, but the boy was, after all, a preteen boy. He likely felt betrayed and annoyed the moment he found out, then found himself pissed as it compelled him to actually say what he was thinking.

It was obvious he was resisting it, too, judging by the strain in his neck.

"What else do the voices say?" She asked, intrigued about his mental state.

"That your full name is Elaine Meredith Sambar," he answered. "You're fifty-three years old, are proficient in five schools of magic and have dabbled in two others. You keep around a hundred thousand dollars hidden in various safes throughout your home and garden. One hundred six thousand, five hundred twenty-six dollars, to be more exact. You have eighty-seven dollars and twenty-nine cents in change in your purse. Through the use of magic, you no longer suffer through periods. You have eight students currently if excluding Suzanne, who you took on as a daughter when she was eighteen, but who has some light issues. You're registered with the government, and they know you teach students without permission but don't do anything to stop you because you don't cause any harm and have built a decent reputation for your abilities. You had a husband and a son, but they both passed away in an accident around twelve years ago, when the son was only around two weeks old. Huh. He'd have been around my age. And if you talk about my mithril balls one more time, I'm going to start screeching."

Elaine tried not to laugh at that last comment as Cameron started arguing with the voices in his head, though she sobered up a few moments later. His roots became obvious to her as she thought about how he knew all of that information. It wasn't through a divination method, though it was pretty close to being such a thing. No, he knew that information was through the voices.

The boy wasn't crazy, he heard voices in his head that gave him information. That could be classed as necromancy if they were spirits talking to him, though he seemed sure that he was a mind mage. It was possible they'd fooled him. Then again, he didn't register as having an affinity for necromancy, but for a lone school.

Suddenly, Cameron slammed a fist into the table.

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" He yelled, breathing heavily, fury in his dark blue gaze, which he turned to Elaine. "I fucking hate you, bitch."

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Summoning everything he had, Cameron did something he'd never attempted before and mentally pushed at Elaine. The moment she doubled over, clutching her head, he knew he'd succeeded. Cameron took off, making his way downstairs and out the front door as Suzanne tried to ask what was wrong.

He ran as hard as he could, stopping only once he was exhausted, hoping that her serum was out of his system. Why did she have to use it on him? He did not like not being in control of himself.

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As Cameron ducked into an alley, fuming about Elaine's actions and realizing that he'd done something on a whim and it worked, Elaine herself was reeling in shock.

The boy had mentally assaulted her. She spent ten minutes attempting to recover from the sudden and forceful attack on her mind. It felt like he had taken a battering ram and simply shoved it straight into her brain.

She was aware that Suzanne was there, attempting to talk to her, but she couldn't focus. Once she finally regained herself, she looked at Suzanne.

"What happened?" Her apprentice asked.

"He realized I'd used the serum," Elaine answered. "And reacted rather violently. Return to the shop, I'll be fine. Greyson should be here soon – send him up once he's here."

Suzanne hesitated, but listened to her mentor. Elaine rubbed her temples. The boy was definitely a mind mage, which meant that either he already had a school of magic other than his roots, a branch having already grown on his tree, or the voices in his head weren't spirits, but a form of mental manifestation.

Either one was a frightening idea, considering the level of his magic and the fact that he was only twelve.

A few minutes after she'd sent Suzanne away, Elaine watched as a thirteen-year-old boy entered her living room for his lesson. Light brown hair styled neatly, big brown eyes watching her with concern, Greyson had been the reason she'd begun learning blood magics. His roots were grounded firmly in them, and he had become dedicated to learning how to heal others with his magic.

His root itself was based in healing, after all.

"Did you hit your head?" He asked. "I can ease your-"

"It's fine," she smiled at him. "It's not a physical pain, but rather, a mental."

Greyson nodded, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie before walking over to the couch and plopping himself onto it, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Normally, Elaine would reprimand a student doing that, but Greyson was different.

Not because he would have been around the same age as her son, had her son still been alive, but because of who he was. A mystery. He showed up every Monday and Thursday like clockwork. He dressed nicely, always paid for the lesson at the end despite his age and without question or attempted negotiation, and had a clean body. He never spoke about his family, and was the only other person who had detected her truth serum.

Unlike Cameron, Greyson wasn't even affected by it. He knew about it and let her think it had worked on him, only informing her about it when he told her that he had a natural resiliency to illness and that his body quickly purged toxins from him.

It was part of his gift. Greyson's innate gift healed him from nearly anything, though at that time, it was mostly just what he had listed. Injuries were difficult for him, and took a bit longer to heal, though not quite as long as most people would.

With her tutelage, his passive healing had increased to the point that she knew most poisons likely wouldn't work on him, even if he wasn't aware of it. His passive healing wasn't a conscious thing, after all.

Not unless he actively used his healing magic on himself, at any rate. He'd also begun learning how to heal other people, though he had originally wanted to focus on how to soothe pain, something they'd only begun working on the week before.

To add to his mystery, Greyson had managed to shake everyone she had ever set to tail him, though he never mentioned it to her. She'd yet to uncover any information about him that he didn't yield willingly and had proved to be as evasive as Cameron had been, before her serum had taken hold on the younger boy.

Greyson was also a skilled fighter. Underneath his baggy clothes was a body of muscle and speed. She had a feeling he also used some enchanting magic to enhance his strength, but had yet to verify that.

Much like Cameron, Greyson also seemed a little bit more intelligent beyond his years, and she didn't want to fathom what caused that in him.

And so, because of his oddity and mystery, she let him be when he did things generally considered rude, such as crossing his ankles on her coffee table.

"So," Greyson said. "What little animal do you have for me this time?"

"You can soothe its pain later," she told him. "I have a favor to ask of you, and it might take a few days, especially with school."

"I'm not an errand boy," he bluntly stated.

"I accidentally upset a potential student," she explained. "A boy around twelve. He's rather small, and has lived on the streets. He was able to tell I'd given him a compulsion serum, and he exploded in response. He has light blond hair and dark blue eyes. I was wondering if you'd keep an eye out for him and extend an apology to him for me."

"I don't run errands," Greyson stated, as if she'd missed it the first time. "I'm your student. Now. Are we going to work on my lesson, or not?"