Just a Little Bit of Magick • ONC 2020 • ✓

I Turn Human Again and Have Way Too Much to Drink

The pub was noisy, the room filled with people huddled round small tables everywhere. Apart from a small dancefloor.

William found us a table somehow.

Probably bribed someone.

We sat down, William ordering a round of drinks. 

Don't know what, don't really care.

»--«

Over the next hour or so we toasted Katy many times, downing glass after glass, until the world went blurry. Even then.

William's money kept flowing, the drinks kept coming.

»--«

Around midnight we stumbled out, taking a few steps and tripping onto the ground.

William couldn't stop laughing; until I sent out an invisible burst of Fé and tripped him up.

Took you a couple of tries.

Shuuuuush.

At some point we sat in a doorway, exchanging loud stories until someone yelled at us to shut up.

I shot a burst of Fé at them.

You missed.

Don't be so loud.

»--«

I think I must have done some sort of magick, because when I woke up, somewhere in the streets of London, my body was exhausted, and, when I tried to draft Fé, nothing came.

I swore loudly, earning several disapproving glares from people on their way to work.

Recharging a Faé stone is a painful process, requiring quite a lot of human blood and several interesting herbs.

It's like a disgusting soup.

Exactly.

I then decided to look around. And swore again.

Where in the seven hells am I?

London.

Really?

I stood up.

And immediately sat down again. My head was killing me, a drum pounding a rather annoyingly loud solo on my skull.

A piece of paper crackled to the floor as I tried to stand a second time.

I stooped to pick it up, narrowly avoiding toppling over forward.

The writing was messy, as if written in a hurry.

'Had to leave. I'm staying in the house at the end of the street.'

The signature was unfamiliar, a T.A.W.

And of course, I probably did something embarrassing in front of him.

Definitely.

Rude.

I stumbled towards the house on the end of the street, footsteps getting surer and stronger with each step.

The door was unlocked.

I stepped in silently on assassin's feet.

A man was sat at a desk, his back to me.

'You really shouldn't leave the front door unlocked. Anyone could wander in.'

The man jumped, shuffling a couple of papers under another one before turning around.

I swore under my breath. How could I not have realised.

T.A.W.

Theodore A. Wilson, MI6 Agent, aka my last target in New York.

Holy Morgana. I really hope he didn't see my face.

Theodore Wilson grinned at me, 'I'm presuming you don't remember anything from last night? You seemed pretty drunk.'

I cursed myself to hell. As far down as I could go preferably.

Why do I do this to myself?

'Nno I don't. What did we do?'

His expression morphed into one of alarm, cheeks reddening, 'Nothing like that?!'

Awww how cute. You didn't even have to say it.

Stop teasing him. What's the point if he can't hear you?

He invited me into the house, waving me into the library, a room with big windows opening onto the street and two walls of books. His writing desk was in the far corner, several papers on it. 

Cheeks still red, he motioned to me to take a seat at the table.

I slid into the chair, bringing my knees up to my chest in a very unladylike manner.

The hangover was definitely still there.

Theodore left the room, muttering something about finding a drink.

I didn't waste a moment. Friderich would be proud of me.

Not that I was doing it for him.

I flicked through papers that Theodore had left on his desk, folding the important ones up and slipping them into my pocket.

I shuffled the remaining papers, meaningless chatter about useless intel, back into position and, hearing the door open, sprang to the opposite wall of books, pretending to be examining the covers.

'Interesting titles you have here,' I said, doing my best 'William at a posh library' impression.

He seemed to buy it, reddening again as I pulled out a tattered copy of Shakespeare.

The sort I had owned in the 1620's.

My mind went back to those interesting times as I thumbed through it. I think at that point I was doing something in King James' court.

The sound of my name drew me out of my daydreams.

'to Alina Von Lübeck, the wife of the German ambassador to King James the first.'

Shaisa.

Language!

I swear; is this is Morgana fu-sorry, messing up my Fate again, I am going to kill her-

You can't kill someone immortal.

-metaphorically. And by that definition, I can't be killed either.

Ok. Let me rephrase that. You can't kill her because your skill is nothing compared to hers.

Ouch.

I really hope to hell that Drunk Alina didn't tell Theodore my name.

My real name.

I zoned back in as Theodore finished, smiling and nodding in the right places.

'Can I borrow this, Mr-?' I may have slightly interrupted him.

'Theodore, Theodore Wilson,' He held out his hand, 'And yes of course.'

I smiled, slipping into one of my many aliases and shook his hand, 'Alicia Scott. Nice to properly meet you.'

He looked like he was trying not to laugh.

What did I do last night?

I disentangled my hand before it got weird, requesting that he provide me with directions back to my hotel.

He offered to walk me back of course, just as a Gentleman should, but I refused, the stolen papers burning a hole in my pocket.

Is that regret I sense?

[7543 Words]