A Mage's Tale

Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Gazing At The Stars

"Playtime's over, boys," the man said, walking down the stairs and simultaneously taking off his coat, while his assistant, Erina Fayette, swung her wand. With a heavy bang, the open drawers in the office closed, the papers on the desk were rearranged perfectly, each over the other without a flaw, everything was neatly assorted and cleaned within a whiff. People's hairstyles were straightened and neatened, the shirts and pants of the men were made neat as well, and the dust in the office was gathered up in one great cloud and thrown out the window. The books on the shelves were rearranged perfectly, the tv set straightened itself on its table, the windows were clean within a moment's time, and all was in a saintly condition, as if the COR unit was spotless and without a single speck.
    "The Conclave has sent me to aid you in your troubles. Fret not, we'll clear this mess within days," he said, his voice powerful and dripping with authority. As soon as he entered the room, heads had turned, and those which did had their gazes fixed on him ever since. He was a tall man, with blonde hair wild and unchained, being combed over his forehead in part, with some sense of order to it. He looked athletic and well built, which was no surprise given his activity in the field. His wartime in America had given him a healthy tan, but also a nasty souvenir. His right hand was now scarred, repaired with silver fingers to replicate what he had lost. Not one of his fingers were fully intact, and they seemed to have been cut off in a sweeping matter, likely by some lacerating spell. His eyes were the most entrancing thing, even more so than I had seen in the papers, made as such by the Comminuo curse, which aimed to break him in a thousand pieces, but which he deflected. His wand had malfunctioned, and his eyes were left damaged, but he had healed them successfully. It had left his pupils in a star-like shape, and within his dark-blue iris, white and gold spots flickered. This was the Head Laether of Kraftia and Great Britain, Edric Waylan, also known as Stargazer. Besides him stood Erina, the very same woman I had met earlier. It was clear now that she was connected to the Conclave Fayettes after all. I was the very first to salute, and others followed soon after. Stargazer was a recognised military figure with many accomplishments in the Purebloods wars, being the only person in the world to have killed a Schultz, so I felt it was needed to greet him so. He walked up to me until we were face to face and smiled widely. He was roughly a head taller than me, towering over me, but his kind grin gave no trace of intimidation.
    "The first to salute, were you? Tell me, Barley, who is this man? I would like him promoted, or rewarded at the least."
    "Don't abuse your power, Edric. At ease, agents. Resume your duties," he said, and they did so immediately. "That man is Olivier Leuvaarden. He will be the one to take care of Percival."
    "Aha, the famous wandmaker, indeed. And your son, naturally." He shook my hand excitedly, almost overly so. His handshake was a strong one, and I could feel his fingers pinch until they could feel my bones.
    "Edric Waylan, as you might already know. Do not worry, I will have your back at all times."
    "Thank you, sir," I said, quite a bit flustered. It had been a while since I had met him, and I was uncertain if he would remember me.
    "Now, Barley, there is information we've acquired in the past few days which will be crucial to this investigation. Erina, if you would."
    Erina put a new folder on the table, bound by several locks and even a ward. She disposed of the ward quickly and put the keys in their corresponding locks with surprising swiftness and agility, opening them one by one. Once done, she used her wand to spread the pages over the table and took a step backwards, standing aligned with Stargazer again. I looked at her, and she flashed a quick smile at me shyly. I hoped that conversation earlier had not been a façade. Stargazer began to walk around the table, pacing slowly.
    "Percival has deeper ties to the organisation than we thought. After receiving intel from several Banshee associates, it seems he is the one pulling the strings around most of the organisations' actions lately. The rapid gain in territory? A plot to make sure they wouldn't be bothered in acting out their killings. The release of the animals they caught recently? An attempt at atonement to gain favour with his sister again, we were thinking. In addition to this, we also made some inquiries and found out who a few of targets might be. One of our contenders is Alyssa Haylen," he said, pointing at a picture of a plump woman smiling in front of the cameras. "She heads the facility responsible for identifying those with magical abilities among the Unborn. He was not rescued by her, not ever, so that would be a more than reasonable reason why she has a grudge against him. Another option would be the pilot responsible for the bombing of his parents' house, but we do not know who this is yet. We found out Percival hired an apartment for a little while, one his sister and himself stayed in, until trouble struck. The landlord of this apartment is almost a certainty considering he was the one who killed his sister, so we have taken him into protective custody already. The building is patrolled day and night, with not a single gap between shifts. It is guarded by Laethers I appointed myself."
    "That's all good and well, but I need to know your sources, and how you came by your information, Edric. We can't afford to have ourselves fed false information," Jones said, leaning against a nearby pillar.
    "You'll meet my source soon enough. As for how, my partner Erina is responsible for intel."
    "Her?" Robert asked, laughingly, something very unlike him. "She's as innocent as a child. Are you even a Laether?" he asked, with a soft chuckle.
    "She is, the First Head Laether," he said, to which Robert paled. "Not impressed enough yet, I think. It seems we've no choice, Erina," he said, looking at her and nodding. "Demonstrate, if you would."
    Erina took a few steps backwards, and, taking a deep breath, summoned slivers of silver and onyx which swirled and danced around her. Once they dissipated, she breathed out deeply, a sound which could be heard echoing through the room. The slivers of silver and onyx had departed, and out came Erina, transformed. Her hair was now long and black, reaching up to her back. Her eyes were a deep brown, which sparkled once she smiled. She had taken on the looks of Aisha Laventine, a famous model. She was an Abberant, and her type was a Changeling, an Apparelite.
    "That suffices, I believe, Erina. Change back to your normal looks, if you please."
    "Naturally," she said, and the same ordeal happened again, but this time she was herself again. How curious. I'd never seen an Apparelite up until now, and it seemed she was very meticulous in her detailing. Jones, however, wasn't as happy.
    "Edric, you've some explaining to do. You know undisclosed collaboration with Abberants is against the law, and goes against what the Conclave allowed you to do."
    "I had no choice, considering how the Conclave would've labelled her a spy, and her family with it. I believe you too can see what we've accomplished throughout the years. Never to mention that you only noticed it now, after seven years of having Erina as my partner. Even in wartime," he added, whispering. "Hence, it would be in your best interest not to report it to the Conclave, wouldn't you agree?" Jones sneered, and nodded reluctantly. "I suppose I see a point there, yes."
    "Good. I'm glad we see eye to eye on this, Jones," he said, patting him on the back, smiling.
    "Now," he said, facing Gauvre, "have you told our wandmaker of the plan yet?"
    "I was about to, until you barged in. Olivier, next week you'll be going to the Silver Garden to handle Percival. He will be there on business, a business visit in which you'll infiltrate. You're to impersonate Adriaan van Elmink. He's a man of the Dutch mafia, a middleman, someone who will be easy to impersonate. I thought it fitting, considering your heritage. We arrested him when he crossed between Bubbles using a stolen Burster. You'll receive lessons in the accent, and you'll have to stop by Arthur Draften later this week. If there is trouble, use this," he said, handing me a charm in the shape of a small, plain doll, made of brown cloth and filled with straw. "If you're in trouble, pinch the doll's hand and we'll receive a message. If you feel you can't handle it alone, be certain to try to block their exits and call us in."
    "All right, I'll be certain to do so. Is that all?"
    "It should be, but if this plan fails you'll need to help us as well. We'll split the bureau's forces across what should be his targets, and you'll join us in hunting Percival down. We'll actively seek intel, and try to neutralise Percival. As long as your cover isn't blown, your part in this should be crucial."
    I nodded. "Expect my full cooperation, then. I'll try my very best, Gauvre."
    "Of course you will," he said, smiling. "I expected nothing less of you, Olivier. I'm as proud as I can be of you."
    "So am I of you," I said, returning the smile.
    "Edric, will you tell us who your informant is or will we keep making small talk?" Jones asked, who was beginning to get impatient.
    "Of course. Follow me, if you would." He said, and we left through the office's doors. Erina walked next to me, taking in the view of the headquarters with a dreamy gaze. It was unlikely that she'd ever been here for long, the poor girl. Fresh recruits to the DOPAQ had been sent off to the front for fifteen years now, and there was little chance of it stopping. Most saw it as a good chance to root out the weak, while I thought of it as a slaughterhouse with little point to it.
     "I'm sorry about earlier, truly. I was asked to check on you, to see if you were fit for the operation in terms of character," she said, keeping her gaze forward and whispering.
    "That's quite alright. You were doing your job, that's all. As I see it, there's no reason for me to be mad or frustrated at that."
    "Well, I was being honest in my behaviour. I feel you're fit for all this, by the by. It's this strange feeling, like a premonition which hangs in the air."
    "Thank you, I do hope I'll do well. It's my first time doing anything like this, you see."
    "I hadn't expected anything else, but you'll do fine. Besides, there's a first time for everything," she, said as we had walked downstairs by now, heading to the far end of the left wing, likely going towards the basement.
    "That's very true, I just hope the first time won't kill me," I said, which responded in a muffled giggle on her part. She smiled at me, and put a strand of her hair behind her ear. As we walked, Stargazer caught the eye of many. Gasps could be heard all around, and Erina assumed her professional mannerisms again, which she had demonstrated earlier in the office. I tried to do the same, but had a poorer go at it. I simply walked with a straight back and a raised head, keeping my eyes forward. Questions were fired at Stargazer, but he ignored or sidestepped them expertly. Even Robert had adopted a professional attitude, I could see. Once we had left to the more remote parts of the building, I continued my conversation with Erina, one which I found very pleasant.
    "And your Charles? Was he a part of your test, too?"
    "Oh, no," she said, with a small laugh. "I'm afraid he improvised that part entirely. I was to drop him off and get him registered. Just something which needed doing, which could mix well with my little mission."
    "Ah, I see. Well, he did make the conversation a lot more spontaneous."
    "He did indeed, that's very true," she said, laughing.
We neared the cells, and as Gauvre fumbled for the keys, Erina stepped closer to me, and we would have stood shoulder to shoulder, was she not smaller. She took a long, scrutinizing look at me, from the parts any usual person didn't pay any attention to, to what everyone looked at. With a satisfied nod, she stepped back again.
    "You're one of us, aren't you?" she asked, with a soft whisper. Goosebumps covered me from head to toe, and shivers tiptoed up my spine. I had not expected this.
    "How did you know?" I asked, my voice hushed with fear but high in pitch with surprise.
    "Well, we're all a bit odder than the usual wizard or witch. I saw it on you, through your mannerisms. But I see nothing external. Are you using a charm?"
    "No, I'm not. It doesn't change my appearance, just how I perceive people." I said, shaking my head.
    "Curious, that. You're no Scolar, then, nor are you an Aelden, because I would recognise one of my kind. A Tarifar, then?"
    I simply nodded, because I was uncomfortable with the topic in general. All this talk of it made me nervous, and the prejudice I'd faced as a child didn't help, either.
    "You needn't worry, you know. Edric, he's very understanding of these kinds of things. Your father knows, and that leaves Jones. He'll have little to say of it, I think, and if he does, I'll make certain to shut him up," she said, flashing a smile which was scary in a sort of uncanny way.
    "Will we have to do a test?" I asked, as Gauvre opened the door leading into the cells.
    "We will, since we'll have to make up for that hiccup of earlier. But if you tell me, we might not have to do a test at all. Would you prefer that?" she asked, kindly, folding her hands behind her back.
    "I would, but I'm unique, I'm afraid. It wouldn't mean anything to you. There's no name for it, nor any way to explain it well."
    "Ah, I see. There's more to you yet. I don't mean to be rude, but I'm an awful bit curious. Does it have to do with your skills in wandmaking?" she asked, shifting her weight again.
    "It does, it helps me greatly. Without it, I'd be a considerably poorer one."
    "Well, then it can't be anything harmful, I think. The test will go just fine, you needn't worry."
We arrived at the cell, where a man could be seen, lounging comfortably on an expensive chair with a bottle of equally expensive whiskey in his hand. His mood peaked when he saw Stargazer.
    "Hello, old friend. Do you have something for me still?" He asked, being struck by a hiccup at the end of his sentence.
    "I'm afraid not, friend. Unless you'd like something still?"
    "I've not, but I've this awful hiccup I can't seem to get rid of. You know a charm or something for it? I might also value a cigarette," he said, in between hiccups.
    Finally, Jones came into action. He took Stargazer aside, moving him by the shoulder and looked at him most sternly.
    "Edric, what in God's name is this? You Translocate an informant in here and don't inform us at all? You haven't even cuffed him, not with cuffs of steel, nor of Arcadian material. What are you thinking?"
    "Calm down, will you. I had to resort to alternative means, seeing as your end came up with nothing but the basics. Besides, he's a..." Edric became visibly uncomfortable and began itching his hands. "God, how I hate that term," he muttered. "An Invaliant," he said, half-whispering. Invaliants were those with magical blood, but without a way to use that magic. Invaliants could be Abberants, but the chances of this are incredibly low.
    "I see," Jones said, coldly. "One more slip-up like this, Edric, without informing me, and I'll have to tell the Conclave of at least one of them. Watch where you tread."
    "Fine, fine," Edric said, throwing his hands up. He turned to the informant and put on a considerably kinder face.
    "I do, indeed. You're in luck," he said, and waved his wand in a circular manner, the hiccup matter being resolved in a matter of moments. Edric snapped his fingers, and a lit cigarette floated in the air, before it got
    "Thank you kindly. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said, moving up from his chair and walking in a manner which suggested he was tipsy at the very least.
    "Naturally. How about we arrange a new meeting on Monday next week? We can't have them notice a pattern, now, can we?" Stargazer asked, and swung his wand again, opening the cell's door, bypassing all the wards and protective spells in place.
    "No we cannot. Provided I get the same sort of payment, or more," the man said, with a wide grin.
    "You can count on that. Until the next time, Karl."
    "Till next time," he said, and out he walked, not to be seen again. Back we walked, to the COR unit's office. 

Once there, Edric approached me.
    "Olivier, there's a tiny error in your records I couldn't help but focus on. Whether you were an Abberant or not wasn't specified. A mistake or not, I'm afraid we'll have to run a test on you to make sure," he said, giving me the type of smile only your superior could give you. Erina caught wind of this, and smiled at me compassionately. But Gauvre also noticed, and knowing me, he wouldn't give it up that easily.
    "Olivier is entirely harmless," he said, putting his hand on Edric's shoulder. "There's no reason for you to execute that test, you wouldn't find anything."
    "Gauvre, I know your relation to Olivier makes this difficult for you, but it's protocol. If he truly is harmless, so will we be to him. All it'll take is a drop of blood, and we'll know for certain. If I don't do this, I could very well be taken off the case. No one here would want that, and especially not you."
    "I would not. You're right," he said, with a sigh, putting his hands in his pockets in a lacklustre manner. "I suppose I'd better come along then."
    "Of course," Edric said, giving him an understanding nod and smile.

We moved into the office parallel to Gauvre's, where Edric would soon sit. He picked a certain kit with several vials, each possessing liquids which bubbled at different paces. There were three, each a primary colour, one for each type of Abberant. But when Edric reached into his bag to retrieve the syringe he needed, all the windows turned into one image; that of Percival Caldrum.
    "Jesus H. Christ, if I found out what twisted prick did that, I'll have his head," Edric said, putting the syringe down hastily, and casting a spell to prevent the image from spreading, which hadn't any effect.
    The image began to move, and Percival spoke.
    "A good day to the agents of the Clandestine Operation Removal department. By now, you've surely begun to notice my efforts. Therefore, I must give you a warning." Gauvre stepped out of the office, and began shouting orders to the agents.
    "He's using a spell to cast his image onto the windows! Search the building in groups of three, and check near all mirrors and glass! Search the attic first!"
    "Edric," Erina said, with a hint of panic in her voice, "should I go as well?"
    "No, you stay here," he said, waving away her suggestion as he walked past her. "I'll join the others. Keep a close eye on Olivier and make certain he's not seen, or this plan will fall to bits."
    "Do not attempt to stop me. These five miserable souls are not worth the amount which will die if you cross me. My organisation's members are more than ready to die for my cause," he said, folding his hands together, and leaning forward. "But in this war, I would hate to see the pure die. Those fighting for justice should not deserve such a fate. Choose wisely, DOPAQ, before fate chooses for you. If you find yourself at a crossroads, and choose the wrong way, you'll regret it for all your life. Choose life, not death," he said, and the transmission was cut, the windows, mirrors and the TV screen returning to normal.
    "Erina, would you tell the others to return? By the time you arrive, he'll likely be gone," Gauvre said, clearly frustrated, gritting his teeth.
    "Of course, sir. Right away," Erina said, and off she went. I made use of her absence to check on Gauvre.
    "Gauvre, are you doing all right?"
    He shook his head, and made his hands into fists, his knuckles turning white with anger.
    "I'm not, Olivier. We were so close to having him, but he's probably already flown the coop by now. I could have ended this, with not a drop of blood, not a single life lost, but it seems the man's more cunning than we thought."
    "You'll get him. I assure you of that. I'll make it so myself."
    "I do not doubt your ability, but we shouldn't underestimate his, either. I've been hunting the Banshees for a decade now, and we've only poked holes in their armour. Godspeed to us, I say."
    "We'll make it eventually, I don't doubt that, but it's just a matter of how many lives we'll lose. And the deeper we go, the harder it will be to go back."
    "You're right, and very much so at that. We'll have to be careful, extremely so. The more drenched in blood we are, the harder it will be to wash off," he said, looking off at the morning sun.
    In the meantime, Erina had come back, the rest in tow. They came back with empty hands, and were disheartened greatly, returning to their desks immediately.
    "Did you find him, or anything?"
    "We did not," Edric said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Gauvre. I know you would have wanted this."
    "It's fine. You're not to blame, none of us are. We should have monitored the building more closely."
    Edric shrugged. "The headquarters cannot be Translocated into, nor can any transmissions be made into it from the outside, he had to be in it. It just depends on how long he's been in here. Camouflage spells are not too uncommon."
    "Nonsense. He should have Translocated through half the city to get here without alerting us, and both Translocation and camouflage spells are damn difficult to pull off," Jones said, in a frustrated manner.
    "Then how do you figure he went in and out, while twenty men and women were out looking for him? He Translocated to the building, without any aid, and used camouflage to blend with the building until he found a quiet place. He knew we would search the attic first, so he went to the place the farthest from it. We shouldn't underestimate him, your Olivier was quite the wizard at his age already, and at sixteen Erina could do what I did at that age with the same amount of ease, if not more." Erina blushed at this, and played a strand of her hair. When she noticed she had gained some attention with this, she stopped immediately, folded her hands together, and looked at Jones and Edric with a frowned gaze.
    "You might be correct, but we have no chance at determining this. We'll just have to send in our best. I assume this doesn't stop the tests?" Gauvre asked, hoping to stop the conflict by switching topics.
    "It won't," Edric said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."
    We moved into the office again, and Edric put the syringe into his hand again. Once seeing my scared face, his turned kinder.
    "You needn't worry, it will only hurt a bit."
    "I'm no child, I'm just not particularly fond of needles," I said, chuckling. "It's not the pain, rather the feeling."
    "I get that. It's the vulnerability, the being left to one's devices. Form a fist, will you?" he asked, and so I did. He inserted the syringe into my arm, and pulled back the plunger, my blood coming out and showing through the barrel. It looked ordinary, but I knew very well that it was different. He then held it above the red vial, that for the Scolars, pushed the plunger, and drops of my blood fell in. There was no reaction, and the liquid bubbled as usual. Edric moved on to the yellow liquid, for the Aelden. Another drop of blood fell into the liquid, but no response was formed. The last, but certainly not the least, the blue liquid for the Tarifar. A single drop fell into the pool of liquid, which surged with bubbles and began to fizz until the vial flowed over. Edric quickly put a cork into the vial and kept pressing on it until the bubbling ceased.
    "Damn," he said, putting the vial back into the kit. "You have quite a bit of magic in your blood, don't you?"
    "One could say so," I said, shrugging. Edric browsed through three different pieces of paper, and pulled out of his bag a large strip of paper, filled with colours from top to bottom, with layers of text next to them, describing what type of Tarifar the wizard or witch was. Edric let a drop of blood fall onto each of them, and I awaited a reaction. I knew this specific test; if they corresponded, they would turn white in colour. Stargazer went past all of them, and we waited several seconds for them to react, but not a thing happened. Stargazer looked at me, a mix of wonder and fear on his face.
    "What are you?" he asked, his voice low and soft.
    "I am one of a kind. Allow me to explain," I said, rising from my chair.
    "Olivier, I should explain," Gauvre said, putting his hand up. "This doesn't need to be your cross to be bear."
    "No, I'll be the one to explain. I'm the one who carries this burden, so I'll be the one to explain it."