Xavos Daldomel stood out in the night downpour catching his breath. He was completely soaked through, hardly having enough time to cast a rain canopy spell. He had just been chasing after a few students that ran off into the woods south of Fairgarland, calling for security with a spell as he ran. Wanda and Catherine had left him behind to continue the chase, but now they had returned. 
	“Anything? Did you see anything at all?” Xavos asked desperately, lighting his staff with a magic flame torch in the rainy night. “Nothing…” Replied Catherine, her face downcast, sweat and rain mixing with the tears running down her cheeks. “We followed the trail, but they just stopped. They vanished!”
	Xavos looked to Wanda who affirmed the gargoyle’s statement. These disappearances, runaways, kidnappings, whatever they were, were getting more and more common despite all their efforts with patrolling and curfews. The magic residue in the air suggested a form of enchantment– a charming spell by Xavos' guess. Even some of the night watch volunteers from House Maximillion had been swept away, victim to whatever whims this wisp, warlock or fiend had planned for them. That was the only explanation in Xavos' mind, he had seen warlocks enthrall innocents before, that was his first guess at who or what was behind this. 
	 “I saw two sets of tracks in the mud, but the strange thing is how they disappeared… they ended as if their shoes were cut off at the front.”
	“What, are you saying they took their shoes off?” Xavos asked indignantly. 
	“No, it’s something else,” Said the lizard woman, “I can’t explain it.”
 	“Enough, show me to it!” The red wizard barked. He hurried behind the two security officers, the three stamping through the mud with Catherine as their guide. Her keen night vision was impeccable, Xavos knew, so if even she lost track of these students there was something much worse going on than simple kidnappings. She stopped at what Xavos recalled was the heart of the forest, a shallow brook running across a dirt path that bent around a gnarled old tree unlike any others.
The worst fears ran through the wizard's head and he suspected the other two had considered similar implications, but when he looked at the tracks they stopped even before the running water. It was as if half the footprint had been perfectly filled in, leaving only the heel's divots in the mud. The other pair of tracks was the same. Xavos had seen something like this before but he could not recall where. Was it teleportation magic? No, there were no real disturbances around the area. Any time Xavos had teleported it had made waves in the aether and would sometimes dig into the earth around him. But even if it was, why on earth would they have to be taken all the way out here to do it? Surely the only evidence of teleportation was the mana residue left behind, but Xavos sensed none of it, he could not taste it on the air, nor smell it, there was no evidence of any wizards having been here save for their bootprints. Wanda and Catherine seemed just as bewildered.
	"Take heart," Xavos started, "They have to be alive. This has to be some kind of teleportation magic," He explained, getting down to point at the half made tracks. A beam of light was cast behind them, two figures walking in their direction from the academy.
	"A pretty good guess, I'd say," one of the strangers called. Xavos spun around, his staff at the ready pointed in the direction of the newcomers. Wanda had drawn her sword beside him while Catherine had hardened her flesh into sharpened stones, her wings as shields ready to ward off any spells. All three were prepared for the fight of their life.
	"Whoa, whoa, easy!" One called out, motioning for them to lower their weapons.
	"Settle down, folks, settle down," The other advised, "We're all on the same team here. Special agent Peter Fe'lan, this is special agent Theodore Hall. We're with the DHIF."
	"DHIF?" Xavos hollered, "What in seven hells do you think you're doing sneaking up on us like that, tonight of all nights?! I ought to turn your entrails into ribbons!"
	"I'd recommend against that." Said Agent Hall, the pistol in his hand becoming visible in the flickering light of Xavos' flame. A red rune glowed on the side of the revolver, signifying it was a casting implement not too unlike a staff or wand.
	"Specially if ya wanna see them kids again," The one called Peter stepped into the light, his sharp eyes gleaming from the fire. He looked every bit the part of a DHIF agent, from the leather trilby and trench coat to the gloves with a mage's insignia on the back. Xavos recognized him as an elf by his angular yet beautiful features and his pointed ears immediately. 
	"Why, have you got something in mind?" Asked Wanda, who kept her blade at the ready. "How can we trust you are who you say?"
	"Hey slick, lower your gun." Agent Fe'lan ordered. Agent Hall hesitated, but he complied, slowly hiding his piece under his jacket after twirling it on his finger.
	"You can't trust us," Peter answered, "I can show you a badge, but what good'll that do?"
	"Do it slowly, or I'll melt your eyes out," Xavos growled, the fire from his staff billowing as though to make good on his threat.
	Peter nodded, opening his trenchcoat with a careful hand, taking his open hand and painstakingly withdrawing his wallet. He inched over to the red wizard, handing it to him for him to see. Xavos examined it quickly, resting his staff on the elf's cheek. "Any sudden movements–"
	"You'll melt my eyes, I got it. We're wastin' time," The elf cautioned. Xavos took one last look at his badge, the ID card, everything until he was satisfied. He tossed the wallet back to the elf who caught it effortlessly.
	"The trail ended here," Xavos explained, his forthcoming attitude allowing Wanda and Catherine to relax.
	"Two sets of tracks?" Hall asked.
	"There could have been more," Cathrine chimed in, "It's hard to tell with all the rain and mud."
	"Look at this, Peter," Theodore pointed at the abrupt end of tracks. Peter stared at the tree at the heart of the forest, his eyes seemingly perceiving something they did not, "Peter?" Hall called again, the four looking toward what he was focusing on. The tree remained, but something had shifted nearby. The roots? The trail? Was it a trick of light caused by the rain?
Peter turned to the tracks by the others, "Seems to me like whatever we're dealing with knows how to blink."
	"Blink?" Wanda and Catherine echoed.
	"Blink," Xavos repeated the word, something in his mind turning the gears. "You can't mean–"
	"If there was any doubt you had ongoing abductions, I'd say that's pretty convincing, wouldn't you?" The elf grumbled, "We should leave, now."
	Catherine threw her arms up, "But what about everyone else–"
	“Listen sweetheart, it’s dark, rainy, and there’s a potential killer out here. Most of us can’t see all that well in the dark. We’ll have to regroup and figure out a plan rather than stumbling blindly through the woods,” The elf explained, “Theo, get moving back to campus, I’ll bring up the rear.”
	“Roger,” The young man drew his weapon again. 
	“Sweetheart?” Wanda growled. 
	Theodore rolled his eyes, “Don’t listen to ‘em, he still thinks it’s twelve A.C.”
	Xavos moved alongside him as they all moved back to the academy grounds to regroup. He hoped and prayed that those students were by some miracle still safe. With the wave of his staff, he illuminated the woods before them, also giving him a good look at the man next to him. He was probably in his twenties with short brown hair and dark brown eyes, not much older than the very students that had been taken. Unlike his counterpart he wore a wool lined leather jacket with DHIF emblazoned on the back and shoulders, his denim pants were mud-caked, which gave Xavos the impression that he had been out here for some time himself. His badge hung from a lanyard that was hooked through one of his belt loops, mud and grime covering the laminate. What drew the wizard’s attention was the revolver in his hand. The red runes were inscribed on the grip, the wheel, and a third on the end of the barrel. A set of softly glowing tubes ran from the barrel into the grip, fastened to a silver coated frame, “A bit of a custom job, hm?” Xavos wondered aloud.
	“Oh this? It was given to me once I awoke to my sorcery,” Hall explained.
	“Really? Is that how such a young man got into the DHIF?” Catherine asked as she pulled her cloak around herself. 
	Theodore shook his head, “Not exactly,” The cold rain and wind was still soaking into everyone, making them shiver fiercely. The group remained silent for a time, focusing on escaping the woods. Once the trees cleared into the campus, Xavos stopped and waited for the elf to pass him by, making sure no one had somehow been lost. Catherine and Wanda were still with them, Theo and Peter were present. The red wizard grimaced, what were they to do?
	“So why’s a kid like you working for DHIF, then?” Wanda inquired, making for one of the overhangs on the campus walkways.
	“Theo has a good feel for the sundered lands,” Peter explained, casting a spell on everyone once they were underneath to warm them and dry them off, “Only guy I know to travel into dangerous ones with no equipment and no back up. You wouldn’t believe how many stashes of illegal paraphernalia he’s found solo. It's a goddamn sixth sense, it is. He must have been a sorcerer all along.”
	“Truly?” Xavos asked, his mind ever turning to his projects, “Sorcerer or not, you must be either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. I was admonished by the International Mages Assembly for even going into such a place!”
	“We saw the report of your arrest from the International Mages Assembly,” Peter replied, “What on earth were you thinking going into Yellowstone of all places?”
	Xavos glared at the elf before relenting with a sigh, “I once visited Yellowstone with a protege of mine a few years back…” Theodore looked at the red wizard who clamped his eyes shut and tensed up, “She was sundered and survived, she went on living her life infused with a storm elemental,” He took a labored breath, “I had suspected that her new existence would cut her lifespan in half, so I thought if I could just unlock the secrets within those artifacts, or the condensed mana, maybe I could rescue her from her affliction. Now she’s missing, along with twenty or so students, and I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”
	The group fell silent, the five staring back through the deluge into the forest. Peter took a pipe out from his coat, stuffed in a blue plant, and lit it. He puffed smoke out into the night before he turned to Theodore, “Kid, I want statements from these three, we need to know everything they saw tonight no matter how mundane. We start the search tomorrow at dawn.”

. . . . .

	Six students were in a half circle with one standing at the head of the room of the academy’s meeting building. Behind the half circle was a small cluster of students sitting on desks or leaning against the wall behind their presidents as their assigned groups, there were fourteen total, two each for the seven presidents still present on campus. Sean Reagal stood at the front of the room, his hands behind his back and bags under his eyes. Beside him was Zucarius, or at least one of his simulacrums trying to ease the tension of the student body. The rest of the room was filled to the brim with students, professors and security, mages of all kinds all scared to their wits end. Sean adjusted his tie and cleared his throat before his weary eyes scanned everyone in the room, “Welcome, all,” He greeted with a short bow, “I am sure you know why you all were called here.”
	“Of course,” Harold Babarry replied, “The state of our campus is quite dire. Even the first years can see that.”
	“Even Veruka Goldmoon has gone home, citing some newfangled remote learning,” Rita McKinzie rubbed her head. The imp couldn’t remember the last time she had grinned or even pranked anyone. The entire campus was too jumpy for fun, people were likely to get hurt in a mistaken case of self-defense. 
	“A lot of students have,” Miss Manus nodded slowly, “Those that remain teach one another spells to defend themselves, travel in groups, and even flock to Galahad’s dueling club, which has more or less turned into a self-defense course.”
	“And we thank him for teaching the students,” Sean nodded to the duelist who stood in the corner of the room armed to the teeth with a staff in one hand, dagger in the other that he tossed in the air and caught, a spellbook and components strapped to his belt, and even a sword in its black sheath hung from his hip, “I know we are all afraid of what is going on. People are vanishing from Fairgarland, students are going home en masse, and those that are left are struggling to run their classes or even study. We are falling apart as a school. If this persists, the academy with the longest history in this world or the old one will become a ghost town.”
	“Zucarius would need a lot of simulacrums to fill the campus,” Rita joked, garnering a few chuckles.
“Then the problem must be dealt with or Fairgarland is finished!” Harold declared, “We need only catch this creature once! Who is with me?” There were more than a few cheers, “With enough man power, we can comb the entire forest!”
	“Harold,” Sean snapped, “You need to take this seriously. We do not know what has happened to our students! They could be dead! I could die next! YOU could die next!” The princely man stopped, his hands were white knuckling the lectern before him. 
	“Sean,” Rita spoke up, “Get ahold of yourself!” She flew on her minute batwings and got in his face, “You chose to be our leader and you need to act like it!”
	“Rita, please,” Manus begged, her skin porcelain white since the beginning of the meeting.
	“Do not lecture me, imp,” Sean barked, causing the two to start hurling juvenile insults at one another.
	“To hell with this,” Edelgarde hissed, getting up from her seat and starting to leave.
	“Aye,” Malagrim Warsong agreed and many in the student body began to follow them out. 
	With an audible CLUNK, the door sealed itself and Zucarius stood tall before the others, his height growing with his voice, “CEASE THIS FOOLISHNESS AT ONCE!” He roared, shaking the building around them. Everyone cowered at the sight of the old wizened grandmaster towering over them all. None had seen him lose his temper before, and the moment passed as soon as it had come. “I implore you all, we must work together to save not only ourselves but those who have been taken by whatever is out there. From what we know they are charming students and faculty alike, so Prince Harold I suggest you keep yourself put until the officers from DHIF handle this. President Reagal, please continue,” Everyone looked over to Sean who had trapped Rita in a small, silencing cage. He took a deep breath before releasing her and addressing the others again, “I apologize, but I have not slept in three moons. I need help, we all need to pitch in,” He took a deep breath as the others sat back down, “We need more people for the night watch. The security team can only do so much, and the meager forces the DHIF have sent are already spread thin.”
	“Ha,” Harold scoffed and rolled his eyes, “You think they could have sent more than two!? There are many people lowborn and high being targeted indiscriminately and they only send us two able bodies.”
	Malagrim nodded and stroked his beard, “Agreed. I know they’re suppose’ ta be elite, but that elf is a mage what forgot ‘is somatics if ya ask me, and that human beardling is always stuck in his shadow!”
	“There are not many to send, as I understand,” Miss Manus said, doing her best to keep order, “I have heard that there is a cult on the rise and they require every DHIF member available.”
	“So we are the dogs given their scraps, is it?” Harold grumbled.
	“Could this be related?” Rita asked, ignoring the prince.
	“Possibly. We cannot rule it out,” Sean answered as he struggled with his tie, eventually just tearing it off and tossing it aside. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a small cloth in his breast pocket, “The elf, detective Fe’lan, informed me that this is a lot different than the cult cases. Look– I know it's hard, and will be hard on all of us, but we need more people watching until this all gets sorted. I am pleading with you all to find capable members of your house to patrol at night or even at day. I will personally petition their teachers to increase their scores should they drop due to lack of sleep.”
	“Perhaps we will postpone all classes until this is sorted,” Zucarius announced, “This is an emergency, I will have no arguments from our staff. We will put some instructions together to prepare for a final for each class that we will have as soon as the danger has passed.”
	"Alright, that clears that up,” Sean said, a small weight taken off his burdened shoulders. “Do we have any volunteers?” The pause was short, “I volunteer!” Harold, Galahad, and a few others in the back called. With the addition of both Harold and Galahad a majority of students were encouraged to join.
“We can find some students to help, I am sure,” Malagrim Warsong added. Eldegarde nodded her silent agreement.
Manus frowned, “I struggle to see who in my house could help beyond my duelist and Fredrik, but perhaps we and the enchanters can brew some potions to help?”
	“We need enchanted equipment, talismans, runes, anything! One of my selves is told by the DHIF agents that we need to ward ourselves from charming spells,” Zucarius projected his voice throughout the hall.
“We can do that easily,” Manus replied, “I will commission everyone to pitch in at once.”
	Rita paused for a moment, “I think I can pull a little something-something together with my house… Invisibility scrolls? Maybe some mirror image ones too. Anything to help in an escape.”
	“Any support anyone can give will be greatly appreciated,” Sean smiled at the others, “The Seeker’s House, and House Faith I will see to personally to ask if they can help. We just need bigger teams to watch the grounds, if we have large enough groups that should dissuade any potential kidnappings. I will have my council bring around papers with time slots for those who are willing. But as for now, I should adjourn this meeting,” He declared with another small bow, “Thank you once again for your time.”
	He turned to Zucarius who seemed relieved at the outcome of the meeting, “I will speak to the conjurers, as their president has abandoned them.” He said to Zucarius. 
	”Do not be hard on her. She has a kind heart but she was not made for such hardships,” the dean cautioned him.
	There were a few more pleasantries that were exchanged and following that most of the people at the meeting filed out leaving Sean and Harold along with their entourages. Sean eyed Harold as he collected papers, “You know, after this whole debacle, we ought to send you on a nice vacation to a spa in the mountains,” The evocation president grinned.
	“I am just doing my job.”
	“At the detriment of your own health, my friend, to which I might remind you of your worrying over me for a similar mistake,” He added, “Perhaps some kind of way for you to relax is in order? A show, a spa… a special speaker, perhaps?”
	“What are you playing at?” Sean groaned, not having the energy nor the patience to deal with the prince’s wiles.
	“I have been keeping a little something in my back pocket, a gift for later, you might say. A birthday present for the spring originally, but I would call in a favor for you to bring someone here I know you would love to speak to,” Harold grinned as he adjusted his robes, “He might also be able to encourage everyone and help keep the campus safe if we ask him politely.”
	Sean gave him a serious look, nearly the spitting image of an undead with the weariness, the paleness of his face, the deep bags under his eyes, and now new worry wrinkles on his face, “Cease your japes. Just tell me what you’re talking about.”
	“I will skip asking you to make three guesses as you will only need one. He is the only current grand master of abjuration.”
	Most of the tiredness left the abjurationist instantaneously, “You can get us Arthur Maximillion?”
	“Yes! Lady Hamilton was not the only benefactor of our world saving heroes! It was something I spoke to my grandfather about, the two were rivals at one point but are friends who keep in contact now. So how about it?”
	Sean was nearly speechless as he began to stumble through his words, “Well– I– Yes–”
	“I believe Sean and the whole campus would be delighted to have such a guest,” Dean Zucarius answered for the abjurationist, “It would certainly put all our minds at ease as long as they are on campus.”
	“I heavily agree,” Sean nodded quickly, “Please, pull those strings you have access to and we will accommodate Arthur in any way we can.”
	“Of course, I will keep you both informed. When you have time, a letter of invitation would be appreciated, Master Zucarius,” The evocationist made his robes billow in some unseen wind, “Good day, friends. We will be in touch.”
	Zucarius waited for Harold to go before turning to Sean and putting a firm hand on his shoulder. Despite being an illusionary simulacrum, his physical grip was strong, “You are doing well.”
	“Well is not enough,” Sean replied coldly, “Students are gone, applications have nearly completely dried up, and students are leaving. I can barely keep my house together… I am failing Fairgarland.”
	“Do not speak such nonsense. These are dire times. Find strength in those that remain, we will find the missing students and deal with this threat, I am sure. I have a feeling they are alive, despite the fact we cannot scry them. Whatever has them must have some strange latent magicks. Charms, powerful auras, blinking…” Zucarius’s illusion breathed a very heavy sigh and removed his hat to scratch his scalp, “By my white beard, we will find this monster.”
	“But how?” Sean’s body was about ready to collapse from his weariness.
	“I believe some in the student body will make a breakthrough soon,” He smiled, “Maybe you will be a part of that.”
	“I hope so. I’m ready to take off the training robes and get serious,” Sean shook his head, “Thank you for the chat, but we must be off.”
	“Of course. I pray you will get some rest, Sean.”
	“I hope I will,” He chuckled cynically before taking his leave. 

. . . . .

	“Anything on my schedule?” Holmit asked in the dwarven tongue as he worked at his personal mini forge and smithing shop. His room within Karak-Albrac was messy as always. Bars of precious metals were stacked in the corner, a few chests and lock boxes were sitting along the wall, his small bed was unmade, and dirty tankards and cups littered his dining and coffee tables along with burger wrappers and discarded and cold pizza in their boxes. There was even the remains of a roasted goose from some nights ago.
	Angerdese put the broom down and checked a notebook she kept in her apron pocket, “Ah, cleared off as of now. Classes are off indefinitely, so we’ve got a lot of time for crafting work.”
	“Wonderful,” Holmit nodded and checked his watch, “Then we had best get back to it. Call everyone back in, get that enchanter friend of yours over and we'll have them done in a jiffy!" The two dwarves had made it their personal mission to craft at least two enchanted talismans for each student that remained on campus as a line of defense and backup in case the other failed. Angerdese had called over Dottathum to help enchant what they had crafted, the three dwarves having already filled out nearly half the orders for the anti-charming equipment by themselves. Necklaces, rings, clothing, as long as a wizard could wear it they were safe. The academy had provided much in the way of materials and funds and even Fredrik had pitched in, providing both real and conjured gold in order to keep the dwarves and any other crafty transmutationist's supplies full, “What is next?”
	“Might as well get that one for Galahad done,” Angerdese made a bored face, “Silver amulet and iron ring.”
	“Agh, that beardling man,” Holmit complained, “How about you handle it? Iron can be cast easily. I will work on the silver chain. Take your time on a design for the pendant too.”
	“Aye, can do,” The lady dwarf put a protective iron plating over her faux beard along with a helmet sporting goggles. The beard protection was etched with a tapestry story of the first dwarves building their hold and defending it from a terrible dragon. In the forge, she put a crucible filled with iron into the flames. Next, she did the same with some scraps of silver before taking a moment to dig through a bucket of rough, uncut gems and picked out a few ruby ones, “Something dwarven for the pendant?” She mused idly to herself.
	Holmit gave a hearty laugh as he filled two tankards, “Remind him where it comes from! Let’s get to work!”

. . . . .

	"Darn, long legged stairs,” Suzie grumbled as she started down the winding steps of the Grand Hall. They were longer, more spiraling, and more grand than any other staircase on campus and of course she was up and down them all day turning in forms from students who were leaving campus, “Could they not have at least put these in an order that makes sense!?” She huffed again, “Up and down, up and down! Dammit!” The gnome stomped to the next professor’s door and slid the letters through the slot. The amulet on her neck was starting to put a strain on her back, the dwarves had used too much gold and precious metals for it to be comfortable. She did need it, despite having a little group of guards wherever she went. The magical protection was a second line of defense should they be attacked. She could hear them chatting down the hall, letting her do her job as they waited to escort her back to the Karak-Albrac dorm.
With a very relieved sigh, Suzie dumped the last of the notes through the mail slots of two professors and returned to her escorts, “How many people-persons are gone now?” Mishta, the ratkin asked. 
	Galahad shrugged, “Too many to really say off the top of my head. Like, eighteen or so here have vanished,” He gripped the iron talisman on a silver chain that he wore around his neck, “That doesn’t include whoever has vanished from the nearby towns or even the train station.”
	The other three students, one from Maxamillion, another from Fritz’Eleo, and the last from Hamilton, all shifted uncomfortably. Mishta squeaked, “Horrible-awful things…”
	“Let’s not look so dour,” Suzie put on a big smile for everyone, “I’ll be working on some sweets for each of you when I get back. With no classes, nor students, I have little else to do.”
	Galahad smiled back at the gnome, “Right. I think some cheesecake is in order. Are we ready to head back?”
	“To the lunch room, right?” A student asked.
	“Of course,” Mishta nodded quickly. 
	Although it was midday, the campus was quiet. Leaves blew across the ground and a light rain covered everything in a slick coat of dew. The rain was chilling, especially with the cold winds of a slowly approaching winter, “I should have stayed home after thanksgiving,” A student whined.
	“It’d be raining there too, idiot.”
	“Yeah, but there isn’t a mad man kidnapping people at home!”
	“Cease-stop your sniveling!” Mishta hollered. With a glare on his face, he started quickly rubbing the knuckles on his clawed hands against the whiskers on his face and big, pink nose, “Whining will only get you murder holed!” The rat threatened.
	“Oh, piss off you stupid mouse.”
	“What the hell is a murder hole?”
	“Shut it!” Galahad’s voice boomed as the rain picked up, “I want to get Suzie out of this rain and your fighting is keeping me from it! Move before I move you myself!” As Galahad drew his staff, the students ran off, dashing for the nearby cafeteria building. 
	Suzie and Galahad were left in the rain. Suzie’s umbrella kept the rain off of her, while the duelist let the rain soak into his cloak. The gnome heaved a heavy sigh, “How much longer must this go on?”
	“Not much longer. I hope,” He grunted back, “At least the campus has all come together, what's left of it, even if they do spend most of their time bickering," The door to the cafeteria was pulled open and the two stepped in. In the main area, the tables had been stacked and set aside. Tents, shelters, cots, sleeping bags, and a few beds had been placed around the room, “Safety in numbers,” Galahad said as he scanned the room.
	“I am glad the different houses are banding together,” Suzie replied as she watched the students break bread and try to scrape lunch together. The restaurants had all closed down. Only the convenience store was still open and the students were buying whatever food they could in bulk. Noodles were being cooked over conjured flames in small pots, ice cream was shared for some comfort, and any other real meals people could put together were carefully cooked. On the far side of the room was Frederick sitting with some other, younger students along with the cat-witch, Sophia. Ever since he repaired Carly's camera, he and the cat-witch were spotted together more and more. Suzie found herself glaring daggers at the beast woman. 
	“Suzie?” Galahad’s voice shook her out of it, “Feeling okay?”
	“Yeah…”
	“Come on, we’ve got cooking to do, right? Baking too?”
	“Yeah, you’re right,” The gnomish woman nodded and led him into one of the now abandoned kitchens. Using what food was left behind, Suzie had been putting home cooked meals together for those who needed it. With some of the remaining meat from a big cut of beef, Suzie started to get a stew going, “Can you chop some carrots, Galahad?” The man nodded and got to work after removing twenty or so pounds of combat equipment from his person and washing his hands.
	“Any way I can help-assist?” Mishta stepped out of the shadows, wringing his hands nervously. 
Suzie looked around the small kitchen, “As long as you’re clean, you can peel potatoes. Rats carry plagues and I don’t want that in my cooking!”
	The rat-kin quivered, “R-rats are clean creatures… I am clean as one can be.”
	“Then wash your hands and get to work,” Suzie said dismissively as she started to get a pot going for the stew. Mishta got to work with the aforementioned vegetables. Using a small, cleaned knife, the small and somewhat rotund rodent man slowly peeled the tubers, “No, no, no,” Suzie took the potato from him as she examined the deep cuts he was doing, “We need to preserve as much food as we can. Only the outside of the potato needs to go. Like this,” She brought out a peeler and showed him how little of the potato she was really removing with, “Now you,” Mishta trembled as the gnomish woman’s hands brushed against his own, “And save the peels. I’ll find a use for them.”
	The rat-kin got back to work with shaking hands. His heart pounded and his face was red. He looked back at Galahad who was nodding his head and humming along to a song playing on a small radio near him, “I wish the rat-wifes back in the hole-burrow were more like Suzie,” He mused aloud, a longing sigh escaping between his sharpened fangs.
	Suzie put the pot down and stared at him, “What do you mean?” Galahad had perked up too, stopping his humming to listen in.
	“Wives back home are fat, some stupid, and most lazy,” He huffed, “Daughters married off at the first convenience like cattle to be bartered. Usually in bulk for coins and materials. ‘The more wives the better the brood,’ or so ratfolk say, but all the wives do is tend to the brood– food, board, everything is up to the one rat-man to provide. If the wives are like cattle then the husband is like a slave! Some of them are not even mine, they belong to long dead cousins, but it is a rat’s duty to take them into the harem! Can you believe that? Do you know how hard it is to feed six wives, each with a dozen ratlings to themselves?” Mishta whimpered, his hands covering his eyes.
	Both Suzie and Galahad were stunned, neither one of them knowing what to say. Suzie took a deep breath before reaching up to pat the rat-man’s back, “I’m sorry, Mishta, we had no idea.”
	“It is not your fault… I am a coward… I came to Fairgarland to get away from it all. I saw many man-people find for themselves perfect little cuddly mice-wifes and thought to myself perhaps I could find one such wife, a real wife. Before leaving, I thought man-race’s women were the same, but when I left I knew how wrong it was. Women of man-races go to school, teach, work, provide… The perfect wife. Suzie would make a good wife, will make a man very happy.”
	She slouched over her pot for a few moments before smiling at the rat-kin, “Thank you, Mishta.”
	“Suzie! You had not informed me that you had returned!” Fredrik stepped into the room as he held his billowing robes close to himself to keep it away from the flames.
	“Oh, I thought you were yucking it up with your white-haired muse,” Suzie harrumphed as she returned to her stew. 
	“Come now, you know there is nothing between us. Sophia is merely an old friend at this point.”
	“Then why did you offer to be her guard today!?” Suzie’s nose and eyebrows scrunched angrily at him, “You knew I was going out today!”
	“Well,” The golden wonder’s voice lacked the grandiose tone that he usually put on, “She asked for me specifically. I asked Galahad myself to take care of you!”
“It’s true, he did,” Galahad offered, only for the gnome to shoot him a glare that could have chilled the blood of a flame giant. He relented, turning to the rat-man, “I think I’ll go on patrol,” Hastily, he brought his carrots over, “Come on, Mishta, we’re leaving.”
	“O-okay…” The rat-kin shivered, realizing what was happening.
	“No,” Suzie folded her arms, “He can stay. He’s  been a great help today as you have Galahad,” She frowned at Fredrik, “You may go, Mister Jeoffry.”
	Fredrik stood stock-still, his eyes studying the gnome’s for a moment before he took a deep breath. “I understand.” He said, the usual whimsy in his voice now replaced with a murmur that attempted to hide the hurt in his voice. As he left, Galahad had went to go after him, only for the golden wizard to shake his head in response, “It’s alright, friend, I wish to be alone.”
	“Alright,” The duelist frowned and looked to the steaming gnome who was right back to work after removing her witch’s hat, “Save me a bowl, would you?”
	“I’ll leave a big bowl for you, Galahad,” Suzie replied without looking up to see him leave. 
	Silence fell over the kitchen. The bleak quiet was broken only by the quiet noise of Mishta running the peeler over a potato. He kept peeling and peeling, unsure of what else to do as his hands continued to shake. Suzie, having cut the beef into big chunks, prepared them for cooking with various seasonings. Soon, the meat was sizzling in a pot. A sniffle was hardly audible over the hissing grease and oil. The rat-kin put the next potato down, “I-Is that enough?”
	“Hm?” Suzie wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands as she got down from her step stool, “Yeah, yeah that’s enough. Up for chopping them for me? Or do you want to leave too?”
	“Suzie…?”
	“Just try to cut it into little chunks while I get these onions done.”
	“S-suzie?”
	“They don’t need to be perfect, just do what you can, Mishta.”
	“N-no, I– Suzie,” Mishta shivered as the gnome’s eyes fell upon him. He pulled the hood off his head, showing his long messy hair.
	The gnome huffed and put her hands on her hips, “I have food to cook for what's left of the student body. What is it now?”
	“D-dont…” His big beady eyes struggled to make eye contact with her. He rubbed his whiskers and nose with the backs of his hands furiously, working up the courage to say what was on his mind, “Don’t throw away what you have with the golden-shimmering one. He cares about you. In the way I wish my brood-wives cared. You care too, yes?”
	“Mishta…” The gnome’s eyes welled up with salty tears, “It's hard to feel like he does. He’s so aloof and putting on this stupid mystique thing. I've known the man for years and yet I don’t even know who he is, really, just the act he puts on. I’m just so frustrated. I’ve been spurned forever, he's been talking about his 'muse' here and there since the start of this semester! Now from the way I hear it he’s probably the one crushing on our headmaster! And here he is hanging out with his ex-girlfriend, is he some kind of player now? Ugh!” She angrily groaned again as she got to cutting the onions, “He’s such an idiot!”
	The rat-kin continued to nervously rub his face, “Yes, he might be but–”
	“But what!?”
	“W-well he might not be! I just think he means well,” He whimpered, “Stupid idiot people can still mean well.”
	“Well, Fredrik is a stupid dummy,” Suzie sighed heavily but pondered for a moment, “I didn't want Galahad protecting me… I wanted him to protect me," She muttered to herself before turning to the rat-man, "I’m not ready to talk to him again. Mishta, can you go find me a drink? I can finish this up here.”
	With a rapid nod and a pulling up of his hood, Mishta forced a shy looking smile on his weak lips,  “Yes-yes, I can," He replied before scampering out of the kitchen
	Now left alone, Suzie went back to preparing the meals, slowly cubing the onion. She tossed them in the pot before taking the potatoes and cutting them into eighths. The golden potatoes reminded her of a certain wizard and she quickly dumped them into the pot with the meat and onions, making a stew of her own in her irritation. The special broth was poured in along with slices of carrots that plopped into the stew with little splashes. The stew was basic, but it was ready, now it just needed to boil for a bit before she let it simmer and thickened up. Suzie stirred the pot, watching it for what seemed like forever until it came to a boil. Normally she wouldn't waste her time waiting but what was there to do? She watched one of the potato slices turn up in the broth at her, the one that reminded her of one of Fredrik's masks. It wasn't just today… it was that mask, it was the flirtatious way he carried himself, the mystery behind that golden veil. She hated it all as a gnome, but she couldn't help but love him, too. What if he really was the one after Jasper Crixx's rocky heart? How could he love a construct over her? Mishta's words ran through her head, what if he really wasn't the one sending her love letters? But why wouldn't he tell anyone who this supposed muse of his was? The gnome stared at the boiling water until it bubbled up to the edges of the pot, the gnome snapping out of her thoughts to turn down the heat. "Why can't he just tell me how he feels," Suzie sighed, sitting back down on her stool to hug her knees to her chest.
	
	. . . . . 

	Galahad let both Suzie and Fredrik be as he looked to get some air. There was no sense in getting in the middle of their affair, whatever it might have been, but he couldn't help but wonder why Suzie was acting so standoffish to the golden wizard. Weren't they all friends? Perhaps she was just stressed. No use dwelling on it, he told himself, he needed someone to go out with, but who? Galahad perked up as he saw a crowd enter the mess hall. The class presidents and their few hangers-on had just come to check on the students that were now taking shelter here. Everyone let down their anti-rain barriers and umbrellas as they entered the dry building. Miss Manus, Harold, a very gray looking Rita, Sean, and Eldegarde of the necromancy house, “Look what this monster is doing to our fellow students,” Harold huffed as he gestured to the haggardly witches and wizards sitting anywhere they could, “I will destroy this threat one way or another!” He decreed as Carly snapped a photo of him, “Do you need another take of that?”
	“No, you did quite well, sir,” Carly nodded as she checked her camera, “Anyone else have any comments?”
	“I do,” Galahad announced, “I’m ready to put an end to this, too. We need to do something and soon.”
	“And what ideas do you have?” She quickly put the recorder to his face.
	“Well, maybe Harold, Sean, and I should team up, go find this monster ourselves,” The duelist suggested.
	Sean shook his head, “I am not a duelist like you two.”
	“Do not sell yourself short, friend, there is always a need for an abjurationist," Harold replied with a smirk.
"Harold is right, you could still make a difference,” Galahad agreed.
	“Let us just leave the heroics to the professionals, Mister Loxley,” Sean urged him with a firm voice.
"I can't wait that long, all those people taken could still be alive."
	Harold scoffed, “I have to agree with Loxley, we are just as professional as those two from the DHIF. Why not take a stroll with me, Galahad? Mayhaps you and I will end this by moonfall!”
	“Remember,” Miss Manus gave them a cross look, “Groups of four or so…”
	“The two of us make four or so. We count for at least one or two more wizards with our strength. Maybe even a knight too!” Harold laughed.
	Miss Manus pleadingly looked at her duelist, “We'll be fine, trust me. I’ll go with him so he won’t go out alone,” Galahad decided, his hand resting on the hilt of the sword hanging from his belt, “I’ve got enough iron, silver, lead, and wooden stakes to keep both Harold and me safe.”
	“Stakes!?” Carly echoed, "What do you need stakes for?"
	“It could be a vampire. This creature takes people at night and has some kind of charm magic. That sounds like a match for vampires. Everything else is just in case, though I doubt it's a werewolf,” Galahad explained, “Not enough blood.”
	“See? Expert!” Harold laughed. “Mayhaps those DHIF agents should be answering to you.”
	“Just be back before one. Both of you,” Sean sternly demanded, too exhausted to argue.
	“Understood. Come along Loxley,” Harold adjusted the sleeves of his robes, manifested his rapier in his hand and slid it into the belt on his waist, “I should not be surprised how prepared you are. You seem to be knowledgeable beyond your years.” 
	“I’ve just had a lot of time to research. Back home, I mean,” The two left the cafeteria and stepped into a rainy and chilly midday fall. 
"Never thought I'd see those two getting along," Said Sean to Manus. The fey witch nodded, she had to admit it was very strange, but then again, these were strange times.
	The rain was falling harder now and the rumble of thunder could be heard off in the distance. Galahad was muttering to himself, “Vampire, fey, hag… maybe a siren? Seems a little iffy due to how inland we are.”
	“This state is completely landlocked. Unlikely that it is a hag or siren,” The prince replied, “Anything else? What is the lead for?”
	“General anti-magic. It should dampen any spells thrown our way, should our anti-charm trinkets somehow not work. Iron is for the fey.”
	“Ah, well that's… good," The prince nodded along, "Any other creatures to be on the lookout for?”
	Galahad scanned the grounds as the two moved to the south side of campus, “Well, there’s mummies and sphinxes. We’d need a holy man to drive those away, so let's hope that isn't the case. Youkai are another problem, though I don’t really know any specifically, I’ve heard they can do all kinds of crazy things. There’s various forms of seductresses, too. Succubi, kitsune, so on and so forth. Not to mention various invisible stalking creatures, like wisps or God forbid a barghest.”
	“I… See,” Harold suddenly wished his group was a little larger, “Well, I strongly doubt we will see anything like those, but your preparedness is comforting. By the by… How would mummies get here? Sphinxes or anubi, maybe, but a mummy?”
	Galahad gave him a glance before continuing to scan the approaching treeline, “There’s another big school in northern Africa. College of Ra, as it is known now. Not that I’m sure, I’m not Zucarius after all, but there could be rivalry between the schools. In the old world there were competitive matches between the schools, think our duels but with many more challenges, potentially more fatal. I read that Fairgarland also did quite well in those times.”
	“And?”
	“Someone could have brought a mummy here,” Galahad grit his teeth, fearing the worst, “Slowly turn the students into lesser thralls, with the help of another monster most likely. They'd then turn all of them loose on the campus. It would be hopeless. Would we be able to turn our swords against our possessed classmen and professors?”
	“Ah,” Harold looked away as he heard the rustling of leaves in the trees. He quickly made the sign of the cross on his chest. He had not been much for religion ever since he left home but recent events had stoked that flame, “I must admit, Loxley, I admire and respect your knowledge of the arcane and magical lore.”
	The duelist stopped, completely taken aback, “Oh…? That seems unlike you, but thank you.”
	“One day I will know your secrets and unearth the source of your power.”
	“And there it is. Maybe. Maybe I’ll tell you if you beat me in a fight. But for now–”
	A horrible shriek pierced through the sound of rain splattering on the pavement. The wizards, now covered in goosebumps, sprang into action after a moment of their spines shivering. With terror in their hearts, they rushed to the site of the cry. Near the boarding school on the south side of campus, Galahad and Harold quickly spotted two figures just on the treeline. A large, black cloaked being was gripping the face of a canine beastman. He struggled and hollered before suddenly going limp and being dropped to the ground, “The monster!” Harold cried as its gaze turned to them. The cyclopean-like skull stared at the two for a moment, as if trying to decide what to do or even taunting them. Galahad struggled to move as sweat quickly covered his body. He was face-to-face with the creature and now he could barely move, “Loxley!” Harold shoved him to the mud as the creature unleashed an unrefined blast of dark mana in their direction. It whooshed by carrying an odd, flower-like scent on it. Harold was quick on his feet, wielding his staff in one hand as he took a bolt of lightning in the other and lobbed it at the beast, “Get up!”
	Galahad scowled and leapt to his feet as the creature began to withdraw itself. When it threw its own powerful spell back, the duelist formed a thick magical barrier to protect him and Harold. Although the blast broke upon the barrier, it still carried a foul wind that shook the two as it careened by, “The student!” Galahad shouted as Harold threw more fire into the trees. The wind howled, and the manhandled student was getting up and beginning to shamble towards the trees, “Stop them! Cast something! Anything!”
	“I need a moment, ser multicaster!” Harold snapped.
	BANG!
	The sound of a small explosion echoed across the campus and through the woods. The student fell over, completely frozen with paralysis as two more people ran onto the scene. The DHIF agents, Peter and Theodore, had their weapons drawn. Peter threw a knife with the skill and accuracy that only an elf could carry as Theodore opened the chamber on his revolver, dumped out the six rounds, loaded in one more, and leveled the weapon all with inhuman speed. The knife stuck in the creature’s chest without seemingly doing anything to hinder it. With another loud bang, Theodore fired another round off. The beast shrieked in pain before disappearing into the thick trees. Harold threw another bolt after it. The creature responded with a wave of nauseous magic that Galahad’s barrier could only block so much of. Peter fell to one knee as he gagged. Theodore’s body tensed up as electricity coursed through him, and Harold shuddered, “Loxley…” He wheezed.
	Galahad hacked and coughed, “Yeah?” 
	“The– The student,” Harold weakly pointed as the beastman was getting up again.
	Galahad shambled towards him, breaking into a run as the student began to move into the trees. With the wave of his hand, and a single command word, the same large rat that was thrown at Harold crashed into the back of the student. He struggled for a moment before Galahad was upon him. With a heave, he flipped the beastman onto his back. He snarled and glared with glassy, lifeless eyes. In response, Galahared bared his teeth and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, “Be cleansed of this evil, friend,” He spoke soothingly as he straddled the student to keep him still, “Be still and–” Galahad cried out in pain as the wrist of his hand was rended by the canine man’s sharp claws. With his grip loosened, he lunged forward and bit Galahad’s hand, “AGH!” He cried and brought his fist to the side of the beastman’s head, knocking him out cold.
	Panting and wheezing, Galahad used his knowledge of abjuration to root out the charm spell. He muttered his magical words as he put his blue glowing hands by the student’s head, “Did it happen again?” Dean Zucarius arrived on scene with staff in hand.
	“Looks like these two managed to stop it,” Peter replied with a pained gasp for air, “Whatever that thing is, it’s magic is some of the most foul I’ve ever seen. Never seen Theodore’s sorcerer magic respond that violently.”
	The younger detective nodded slowly and panted, “I feel ill.”
	Zucarius turned to the evocationist, “Harold? What happened?” His voice was full of relief but the fear was still lingering.
	“We heard a shriek and came running over,” The prince replied, “I saw it. The monster. It had grabbed the student to inflict him with the charming magic, once it was done it dropped him and attacked us! I retaliated while Galahad defended us from its foul… no, wicked arcane powers."
	"That's when we arrived." Peter added, "But nothing we did fazed it. It completely shrugged off my silver dagger." 
	"It didn't like my bullets," Theodore said, gritting his teeth.
	"Nor my magic." Harold agreed. "Thankfully Loxely managed to rescue the student… With some difficulty. How's your hand, Loxley?"
	"I'll be fine." Galahad grumbled, casting a healing spell on his wounds.
	"What about the student?" Zucarius asked, approaching the duelist.
	"He's uh… out cold. I cast a… sleeping spell on him," Said Galahad, quickly performing a healing spell on him as well.
	"How about that charm spell, Loxley?” Called Harold.
	“Should be… done,” He panted before rolling off and lying on his back. Randy, the big rat, crawled into the wizard’s cloak to avoid the rain. Peter and Theodore stepped into the treeline and searched the area where the creature had been. 
	Zucarius made his way over to the duelist and leaned down, “Young Galahad, how powerful is that charm spell?”
	“Too strong,” He groaned, sitting upright, “The talismans helped, but I noticed something else," The duelist pointed at the canine beastman's nape, his fur red and bloodied from what looked like a broken chain, "If he was wearing one, it didn't stop it. Though I am glad it's not a mummy or some kind of seductress monster.”
	“What was that skull? It looked like a cyclops with massive, broken tusks!” Harold shuddered, recalling how it seemed to glare at him.
	“Like this?” Zucarius conjured an illusionary skull before the two. It had a hole in what seemed to be the forehead along with two more smaller holes on the sides of the eyes. Two massive tusks came down and curved up.
	“Yes! Just like that!”
	“It could possibly be a cyclops as you say, but it is more likely that Then it is wearing the grizzly visage of an elephant. Why, I could not say For some reason,” Zucarius stroked his long beard.
	“An elephant skull, hm?” Peter guessed as he returned, “We definitely hurt the creature. Well, I didn’t seem to. Slick and mister hotshot there did all the lifting. I would hazard that if this one,” He gestured with a nod to Galahad, “hadn’t cast a shield on us, that last blast would have made us all convulse and drown in our own vomit.”
	“Definitely,” Theodore nodded and ran his fingers through his wet hair, “I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all. How is he, Galahad?” He knelt down to the student and gave him a soft shake.
	“Alive. Thanks in part to your magic,” Peter smiled, “Come on, let’s get him out of this rain. We can question him at the cafeteria.”
	“But why was he out here?” Harold wondered, “Alone at that. He will get a very stern talking to from Sean over this.”
	“Ah, look here,” Zucarius reached down and picked up a small white box with a blue flame on the front, “Seems as if the rat found these in his pocket.”
	“Mana cigs,” Peter nodded, “Been off those for twenty years now. Hard habit to break,” The elven detective opened up his trench coat revealing his rows of throwing knives and twin swords. On the interior of the coat were numerous patches with embroidered designs that looked like mundane objects. Swords, brooms, buckets, barrels, magnifying glasses, and various other things. With a tug, he ripped off one and tossed it into the grass. With a poof of smoke, a wheelbarrow appeared, “Help me load him in, slick.”
	
. . . . .


	“Carly Halestorm, Fairgarland reporter,” The woman said to her precious voice recorder, “The mood on campus is dour. Students are gone, either vanished into the night or gone home out of fear. Even one of the presidents has gone home. Ever since The Fairgarland Butcher was spotted by me and my crew things have only gotten worse. Did we accidentally disturb some kind of horrid ritual? Did we see something we were not meant to? Was it actually aliens all along come to steal the magic from our planet and they're abducting any mages to study its applications? Am I lucky just to be alive with such a close encounter?" The reporter wondered to herself as she walked around the back rooms of the cafeteria, not really caring where she ended up. More students were back here either reading or playing games like cards or Mageus the Boardgame. Further in, she found more students just trying to get some sleep in cots, sleeping bags, and tents. Not wanting to dwell on such thoughts she continued, "There aren't many of us left on campus. If Fairgarland were a ship we'd be less than a skeleton crew, we'd just be the skull. Let's face it, whatever is out there is nigh unstoppable. Luckily for us we have Prince Harold on our side! Oh and Sean Reagal, too! Grand Master Zucarius is even pitching in, and those guys from the DHIF are here… making a DHIFference! Ha! Oh right and Galahad… he's helping, too," Just as Carly rounded a corner, she heard some quiet chattering.
	“Can’t I get a smoke, man?”
	“Zucarius?”
	“Fine. If it will stop his shaking and calm him down.”
	Peering into the room, Carly spotted a small crowd. The DHIF agents, Harold, Manus, Sean, Galahad, Holmit, Zucarius, and a younger student with the red band of house Fritz’Eleo on his arm. He was a canine beastman with dirty, cream colored hair and dog ears on top of his otherwise human head. His tail drooped down the back of his chair and he was wrapped in a thick wool blanket. Peter handed the young man a cigarette and lit it with a flame from the tip of his finger. The end turned blue as the beastman took a long drag, filling his lungs with the mana infused smoke before exhaling with a relieved smile. His tail started to wag pitfully, “Calm now?” Peter asked, clearly none too happy with him.
	“Y-yeah. I’m feeling better now.”
	The younger detective, Theodore grabbed a pen and paper seemingly from thin air at his side, “Name?”
	“Otto. Otto Volinger,” Otto took another drag.
	“How accurate is this? You stepped from your dorm to go to the edge of the woods to smoke. And there, you were attacked?”
	“Yeah…”
	“And you do this all the time, judging by the butts I found nearby,” Theodore fiddled with his pen for a moment as he eyed the student.
	The canine nodded slowly, “It's more than just me who smokes there. My buddy was taken a while back, but I can’t just stop.”
	“Right. Let’s–” With a sudden turn Theodore eyed the journalist peeking into the room, “If you’re going to observe, journalist, step in and close the door. You’re going to want to hear this.”
	“S-sorry,” Carly stepped in and started taking her own notes, “Thank you for letting me sit in,” She took her place next to Harold.
	“To catch you up to speed, Carly,” Sean cleared his throat, “Seeing as you’re the only journalist on campus now. Otto here snuck off and nearly got nabbed by the monster.”
	“You escaped the Butcher!?” She gasped and quickly realized what she had said.
	“Butcher?” Peter echoed, “Seems you’ve bewildered everyone with that. We’ll get to you soon. Otto, tell us what happened after that.”
	“I-I don’t really know. Suddenly, this masked freak was on me and grabbing at me. I didn’t have time to get my wand but it ripped the medallion that was given to me off and then I blacked out as it gripped my snoot– I mean face. When I woke up, the side of my face was hurting like hell, but Prince Harold himself had saved me!”
	“Yes, yes, we all saw the big hug you gave me when you woke up,” The Babarian prince chuckled, “Carly. Galahad and I fought the… Butcher? We scared it off with the DHIF agents and we were able to cleanse the charm from our dear Otto here.”
	“You fought it too!? Wow. You’re just cooler and cooler every day, Harold,” Carly scribbled down every detail she could, “Anything else?”
	“It bleeds,” Galahad added grimly. He was biting his nails, deep in thought and staring blankly at the floor. He had a bowl of stew with him that he had barely touched. His wrists and hands were covered in splotches of gray, dull flesh. The sign of magical healing of wounds.
	“So, Carly,” Peter turned to the journalist, “This thing, this… Butcher. What do you know?”
	She scratched her head, “It's just the name we gave it. Those at my newspaper, I mean,” She hastily added, “I only have one picture we got,” She pulled it up on her camera and showed them the blurry picture she managed to take weeks ago when her cameras were all destroyed.
	“How long have you been on this?” Theodore asked.
	“Uh… I think since Sophia Hamilton reported seeing it. That was the week of the duels, week three of the term. She didn’t give me much information. I’ve just had a bunch of fruitless stakeouts and that single photo.”
	“Hmm,” Zucarius stroked his beard, “Seems we should have believed her.”
	“It appeared far-fetched at the time. To think we could have stopped this weeks ago,” Sean sighed, “Maybe it is time to step down.”
	“Nonsense,” Manus assured him, “None of us could stay this calm during this situation while in your position. Peter, may we go? This has been a long and taxing time for us.”
	The elf adjusted his long blonde hair with a comb from his pocket, “Just a bit longer. Manus, sweetheart, do you know anything about the disappearance of Angerdese? As I understand it, she vanished from your dorm.”
	“I am afraid I do not. I was out when it occurred.”
	“Ah, poor Angerdese,” Holmit broke his silence. He had been sitting beside himself from the start until now. The dwarf put his face in his hand, “The lass didn’t deserve it. It should have been me to vanish. No one had been taken during the day! A simple errand was all it was!”
	“Calm down, master dwarf,” The elven detective grabbed a pen and paper, “Tell me what happened.”
	“Aye, aye,” He took a deep breath, “I had been working in me forge with her. I had gotten a little, as they say, ‘hammered,’ while working. A whole chest of fine crafted pendants and rings were ready to be delivered. I would have done it, but she insisted on going herself. I didn’t even think she would have gone out alone! That damned hard headed… Hard headed lass!”
	Most had never seen a dwarf cry. They were known for being stoic, bold, and brave, able to withstand any hardship– but the tears Holmit shed silenced the entire room. Carly couldn’t bring herself to snap a photo for once in her life. Galahad stood and spoke first, “We should bring in more DHIF forces, right? We’re just sitting ducks! What if it decides to enter this building?"
	"The kid has a point," Theodore agreed. Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking it over for a moment. 
	He exhaled sharply, "Alright. We'll ask for whatever we can get and try to get this place locked down."
	"That's not good enough," Galahad protested, "It fought us up front, it's getting bold and now we hear it's snatching people during the day! What are we waiting for?”
	“I agree with the manling!” Holmit roared, “We need to end this!” He dried his eyes with his beard before leaping to his feet.
	“Silence! Both of you!” Manus’s anger made papers scatter and loose cloth billow in an icy chill that blew through everyone, “I will not allow you both to throw your lives away! We will wait until the DHIF can send reinforcements.”
	Holmit growled behind clenched teeth but he bit his tongue and Galahad simply gave a solemn nod, “Loxley, I wish to return to the dorms. Could you accompany me as to not break our president’s rules?” Asked Holmit.
	“Perhaps we should all return to our quarters,” Sean rubbed his forehead, “Peter, Theodore, please keep us updated. We want to help end this if necessary.”
	“You’ve got it. Slick, we should head into town and try to call in,” Peter ordered, “Have a good evening.”

	. . . . .

	Leaves crunched under boot. Every few steps a boot would get stuck in deep mud and make a squelching sound as it was wrenched free. The wind was howling, carrying freezing rain upon the breeze. Holmit held his cloak over his armor with one hand and kept his casting rod at the ready. The hexagonal, metal rod was heavy in his hand and could easily be used as a cudgel as well, “Damn cowards,” He growled in dwarven, “We know where it is, the southern woods aren’t that big,” He murmured as he stomped through a thin trail. All signs pointed to it, that’s where everyone snatched up was taken and where the few sightings had been from. It had to be here. Galahad and Harold had hurt the beast, Holmit could do the same, at least he thought so. He just needed proof that they were alive and where they were and the DHIF would be forced to act! 
	Even with his natural ability to see in the dark, Holmit struggled to see through the downpour of rain. With the wave of his hand, the dwarf conjured a small, translucent orb filled with small specks of light and looked through it. The scrying orb showed the scenery in a bright white aura, the markings of latent mana in the area. A lot of it too. He was on the right track. Holmit prayed to the god of his ancestral home for protection in his native dwarven language. It was short and sweet, as were all of his prayers. His fingers tightened around the rod as a nearby bush rustled loudly, “Damn nature,” He grumbled to himself. 
	The wind howled, battering the dwarf with freezing rain. Just over the wind in his ears, he could have sworn he heard a small giggle. He jumped as a branch raked across his back. With a nervous swallowing, he glanced through the orb again at the mana covering the plants and trees around him. It was even more intense here. The mana residue seemed to move and shimmer off in the distance. He pulled the orb away and looked around as thunder boomed and lightning struck. The wind and rain started to sting what little flesh the dwarf had exposed. His hood was blown off and his beard buffeted his own face. The howling now sounded like wolves. Wolves and–
	More giggling.
	The weather was getting worse and worse. Despite the armor on his beard, he couldn’t keep it under control until he angrily tucked it into his belt. A chill ran down the dwarf’s spine. Holmit was unsure if it was the rain or the odd noises. Chatter, laughter, giggling, clinking of glasses even. It was like he was in a pub again, the warmth of the noises at least made him feel like it while contrasting the freezing rain. Another laugh made him feel uneasy. It was like it was right in his ear, completely clear over the howling wind and pounding rain. Holmit shook in his boots. When turning around, the dwarf found himself elsewhere. The trees, rain, and wind were all replaced by peeling drywall and dim lanterns. The wind battered the side of the house he now found himself in. His rod was gone, along with the scrying orb. Holmit turned again, facing away from the drywall and into the eyes of various familiar students. Each of them stared at him, their eyes glossed over and wide. The telltale sign of mind controlling charm magics. The dwarf knew he needed to leave, but his shoes felt like they were full of concrete and his heart pounded painfully as the adrenaline pumped through his short body. A firm grip on his shoulders made Holmit yelp before his world went dark. 

Chapter 17