The Supernatural Case of an Accidental Time Traveler

"Well, that was boring," a disinterested voice bemoaned from the emptiness of space, sounding as if two beings were speaking in tandem. Amidst the nothingness around, the faint light from stars glimmered in the distance. Yet, the voice remained; Cold and distant, yet still alive, like a spectre of inconsistencies that shared a common purpose. Looking at the earth, the voice sifted the clamoring souls below till one of the many through the ages humankind lay barren and alone, chosen as the last by measure of chance.

"I wonder how this person will change the earth this time around? " the spectre-like being inquired in anticipation and curiosity, gazing upon a human soul. The being's tandem tone of devilish intrigue and a satirical simper made form in its expression of a sadistic humanoid smirk where the voice had previously bemoaned. "The last one barely had the others intrigue, let alone enough interest for one to intervene," the voice continued, forming from its tongue, a human-like form; The form of a mischievous yet blameless child with vibrant hair extending beyond its feet, dressing itself in a white cloth sheet similar to that of an ancient Greek chiton. Lacking the features to define it as a man or a woman, to all mortals it was simply a being that looked human.

"Really? Is this really how he subconsciously thinks we look?" the being said, looking over the perceived body it had formed. Holding its hand to the cosmos, starlight could be seen through the palm more beautifully than with the keenest of eyes. Satisfied and unbothered, a sinister grin formed before it decreed amongst the stars, "be it in present or past, Lou Barrett, be chosen for my purposes, to freely do with my power as he wishes, till rejection of this gift or death, it shall remain."


***


There was a dream. To say it felt more like a nightmare would not be an exaggeration. Though the scenery, a vast forest filled with floating lights filling the emptiness, alone sat a person with their back turned to me. A thick dark cloth, frayed and worn, rested atop their scraggly form. As I ventured toward them, my view of their hands, veiled in a purplish-black smoke, showed a crudely weathered longsword, being patiently sharpened with a wet stone. Hearing the snap of twigs and brushing of leaves from my feet, the figure turned its head toward me, its face hidden behind an expressionless white mask with a single black stripe running from the upper left corner to the bottom right. Locking eyes with the ironically eyeless mask, it formed an inhumanly wide smile, as if it were made of clay. Opening to unveil a row of jagged, broken teeth behind its lips, gnashing in agonizing rhythms like that of hundreds of broken clocks ticking out of time, I couldn't help but back away. Standing to face me, the cloth covering draped over it like a mourning shawl, and like the mouth, eye holes formed as curved slits of glee, crying from them fresh streams of crimson tears.

My breath became visible as chills of fear ran up my spine, telling me to run. I was already turned around, dashing through the stationary lights of the forest for what felt like all I could muster before I considered to look back and see whether I was being pursued. Gazing back over my shoulder, the forest began folding outward to reveal the night sky, filled with more stars than the mind can comprehend. Amid the stars approached not the masked figure of smoke but rather, a human half my size, draped in a plain white short-cut Greek-style chiton. Flashing a smile behind a raised finger, their gold and grey hair, flowing like a river between the chiton sheets creases, lifted towards the heavens. My attention drawn up to follow it, I stumble back in bafflement from the sudden replacement for the child being myself, standing in aloof confusion by the sight of me.

Straightening himself up as I usually would to seem more confident, the other me asked, "Who are you?" his voice just as curious as I was. Looking down at the ground, which had previously been dirt, now reflected a face that was not my own upon a mirror-like surface of water. Unlike my doppelganger, who bore a wider face, short dirty blond hair, and sunken eyes, I had a slimmer face with short grey hair. Taking it in, I shook my head.

"I do not know," I replied, lifting my head. "Who are you?" I asked for I truly did not know who I was in this moment.

"I am you, Lou Barrett, as are each one of them," the other me answered, gesturing around him to reveal an infinite number of the grey-haired me, scattered as if copied by a mirror illusion. Turning their faces toward me, each bearing different expressions and emotions from sullen to overjoyed, fearful to fortunate, each sank into the water beneath them in shock.

"Tell me, what is this place? Who were those people I saw?" I begged of the one before me, trying to reach toward him. Though my body was unable to move closer nor further from him, trapped in place by the waters reflecting this new me.

Before I could question further, he answered, "You are what you are, and this place is you. As for those beings, well, I cannot say."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, confused.

"You will find the answer when you succeed," he replied as if he'd said it a thousand times before and were tired of it before falling through the water floor. Looking down at where he had stood, the water below me gave way, and I fell with a loud thump onto my back. My head was pounding, I felt physically drained, and my back hurt slightly worse than normal. In the distance, I saw a bright light, only to realize that I was just opening my eyes.

Opening my eyes, I realized the light wasn't nearly as bright as I thought it was. What a weird dream. The day started out normal, with me taking a shower, eating a crappy microwave breakfast, and heading to work with a tired demeanor. It wasn't exactly sunny out today, and there was more moisture in the air of the London streets than I would like. The morning sun ignited the red bricks of the various Victorian-style buildings that were either historical or built to match the aesthetic, as I walked… Though the sun happened to reflect perfectly off one of the distant glass-covered skyscrapers and straight into my eye like the bastard it is. Most of the shops had already opened for the bustling morning crowds that lined some of the shops' entrances for coffee. A mix of the salty moist smell of the English Channel, baked goods, and mild garbage wafted in the air. Cyclists, cars, buses, and lorries traversed the tarmac streets busily but it all felt like another day in London. Strangely, it wasn't foggy this morning.

Cutting through Whitechapel on my way to work, as usual, I ducked through an alleyway. The only thing decorating the brick-lined alley was a single blue dumpster, but as I strode past it, I suddenly felt dizzy... and the dumpster behind me was gone. The alley was no longer tarmac, but was replaced with dirt and cobblestone. The buildings on either side were made of red bricks as they were before, but the brick shading was much darker, and was plastered in spots with dried-out dirt. As I turned back to where I came from, some wooden crates were suddenly stacked up where the dumpster had been, and hanging a story above me were some clothes, hung to dry. Was I going nuts? The drying clothes weren't there before, and I could have sworn those crates weren't there a second ago. Strangely, the buildings were not the same as they were before. Some of the Victorian replica brick buildings had completely changed in colour schemes, or entirely in layout, while some of the historical buildings looked relatively the same.

"What is going on?" I asked myself as I spun around to take in my surroundings. At the end of the alley, there were people traversing past, so I inched over to take a look. Maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me. While I observed the area, I felt around and realized I didn't have either my phone or wallet. Did I leave them at home? Maybe… but I was positive that I'd put them in my pockets.

When I emerged from the alley, I was in utter shock. The glass building that blinded me was gone. Completely. The people waiting in line at the various shops had vanished and had been replaced by dust-ridden fog. Not only that, but the shops themselves had been utterly changed. What was once a coffee shop was now a tailor, and what was once a pub was… well, still a pub, but a shittier one. All the cyclists, cars, buses, and even the lorries had been replaced by horses and carts. What threw me off the most was that the people that were still there were now dressed like it was the late Victorian era. And there was dirt… there was dirt everywhere. Where the hell am I?

The bustling crowd didn't seem to care that a man dressed completely differently from them appeared out of an alley. My clothes were just a black collared shirt and black dress pants. It wasn't my style per se, but I had very few options since it was close to my laundry day. To be honest, I thought it looked a little too edgy. I wandered around the area, taking in everything I could. Vendors lined the street, unlike I had remembered. I assumed I was in some sort of marketplace, and everyone seemed to speak English... or at least some broken form of it. However, none of this was here yesterday, and I don't remember hearing anyone setting anything up in the night.

"Excuse me, sir, what is going on here?" I ended up asking one of the vendors. He was sitting behind a large table surrounded by bags of grains and lentils.

"What? Are you a muttonhead? This is a market," replied the man sitting behind the table. He was a shorter Indian-looking man, with muscles large enough to make his size irrelevant. On top of that, he had the facial expression of someone who was ready to beat the shit out of the next person to piss him off.

"I just came out of that alley, and I don't remember ever seeing a market here before. Was this set up last night?" I asked as I looked around. The more sights I took in, the more I felt like I was part of some movie set.

"What are you talking about? This market has been going on for a long time. So bugger off if you're not gonna buy anything."

"Then maybe I'm lost. Could you tell me where I am?" I asked, even though I could feel him getting more annoyed.

"You're in Whitechapel, London kid. You probably didn't realize it because this is the only part of Whitechapel that isn't littered with whores and beggars," he replied with a click of his tongue.

"So I am where I thought I was," I thought out loud. I was even more confused by his description of the place, but maybe he was just messing with me.

"Just get out of here," he glowered at me. If this was really Whitechapel, why did it look so different? Was it a historical reenactment festival or something? No, there's no way that Whitechapel would host something like that during this time of year. Maybe…

"Is there a festival going on?" I asked myself aloud before heading for work. It wasn't that far from here, so maybe my coworkers could tell me what was going on.

Upon getting to my workplace, I found that it was not the same. My coworkers had been replaced by other people. What was originally an office building was now a cobbler filled with shoes. I couldn't believe what I saw. What exactly was going on? Was I still dreaming? At the corner, I saw a young boy dressed in the same late Victorian-style clothing that everyone seemed to be wearing. However, he was holding a large paper with the current news on it. On it also read the date. Though, the date itself didn't matter much to me. What mattered was the year. 1888 is what it read. Then the realization struck.

I stood frozen. Everything lined up in my head, as I had either time-traveled or gone crazy. Either way, I was in such a shock that I meandered my way back to the alleyway that I had ducked through before ending up in this timeline. Once I was there, I slumped against the side of the building and thought. For what felt like hours, I sat there, thinking. What was going on? What was I going to do?

I don't have any money. No one is going to believe I am from the future, so what can I do? I do know that no matter where you go, you need money, so my first priority is that. Another thing is that I need shelter, and my other priority is getting some clothes that don't stand out. I can't exactly change, but I did see that most men in the market wore long coats. Most of which would cover up my clothes enough to make them look normal. Plus, I was feeling a bit chilly, unlike earlier.
Looking up at the drying clothes hanging above me, sure enough, there was a long coat. It was a worn grey coat with several holes, but it could work. Pushing some crates in the alley underneath the clothesline, I used them to climb up and grab the coat. Once I had it, I climbed down and threw it on. It was still a bit damp, but it wasn't as if I couldn't put up with it. Damn it, now I look even edgier than before. Whatever… it would be fine for now. It's not like beggars can be choosers.

Speaking of beggars, it was probably best for me if I got some money first, and I didn't have any clue how much money was worth during this time period. I swear… If I got sent to this time period by some outside force, then they should have at least given me some kind of ability, damn it. This was hopeless. I had no clue how I was going to get any money. Perhaps I could try begging on the corner? Wait, that vendor said there were tons of them here, so I don't think this is a charitable area.

I wandered around before passing shops with semi-reflective glass windows. I looked at my reflection and noticed that my body had changed. My hair was no longer a dirty blonde but instead a darkened shade of grey. I looked even edgier. Was this timeline trying to make me an edgelord or something? My face was still clean-shaven, and I still had a mole under the right side of my chin. The pupils I had were severely dilated, and my eye colour had changed from brown to grey, with a yellow ring around the pupil.

No matter what timeline it was, though, the bags under my eyes were still there from so many night shifts. My chin, which I wish was more chiseled, was rather rough, and my hair was still cut to be no longer than eight centimeters. Although that wasn't my choice either. I had wanted to grow my hair out, but I had to look presentable at work. The more I thought about it the more I realized I hated my job, so much that I don't even want to talk about what it was.
Enough focusing on the past, or future… It doesn't matter. I guess I better figure out how I am going to get some money. There seemed to be a lot of people wandering around, so there must be jobs that even I could do. I could read, write, and was educated enough, so it shouldn't be hard, right? Nope, I don't even know where to start. Though staying here with a stolen coat wasn't gonna get me a job, so I began roaming around.

The city of London wasn't much different than the one I knew in terms of layout. As for its style, well… It was far less pleasant. There were more dirt and cobblestone streets than before, and it wasn't very bright out due to a low-hanging smog-like fog that reeked of coal, tobacco, and hot iron, along with a far more distinct sulfuric smell from the English channel. Various shop windows looked slightly tinted due to the smog, and more than a few people were having coughing fits. Beggars throughout the streets groaned and coughed as they stood around on the streets and slept in alleys. Others drudged around the less crowded streets, going about their business dressed in mainly dirty work attire. Most of them sported a cigarette in their mouths, freshly lit, to add to the morning smog. The sights and smell didn't bode well with me at all, but I kept on my way.

As I was passing through an alley, two burly men who were sparsely dressed in cover-alls and long shirts left a back alley bar absolutely drunk. Not only that, but they reeked of alcohol, fish guts, and tar. In order to avoid them I strayed towards the right side of the alley, but one of them decided to drift in front of me. Because of the alley's size, I stepped away from the wall to avoid him, but he meandered his way in front of me again. When I finally reached where he and his friend were, I tried to step around, but the boar of a man held his arm out in front of me.

"I'm sorry. I'll head the other way," I said, trying to avoid trouble. The two men seemed to find this rather amusing, as they began to chuckle. I started to back away, right as the man spoke in a humoured but threatening tone.

"No, you'll be handing over all you've got. We'll beat you otherwise," the man said. His buddy, still drunk as could be, stepped behind me to block my exit.

"I don't want any trouble. I am new to this area and have already lost all my money," I replied honestly.

"Don't be given us ex'uses," the man said, before throwing a very slow, drunken punch. I easily dodged it and attempted to punch him in the face. However, his friend grabbed me from behind before I could. I squirmed and kicked out to keep the other one from approaching. This only encouraged the grizzly man more, as he came toward me and his friend. Tucking down like a wrestler preparing to tackle his opponent, the man got close enough that I was able to accurately place the sole of my boot on his forehead in a downward kick. The drunken slob of a man's chin slammed into the dirt and cobblestone below with a loud crack.

Recognizing his friend being hurt, the man who held me from behind, angrily slammed me into the alley wall. The hard brick abrasively cut away at my face as he slammed me into the wall twice, before being thrown to the ground. I quickly and desperately scrambled toward the opposing alley wall as the drunken man started coming at me again. This may be it. My last moments will be filled with the foul stench of fish and sweat-covered drunkards. As I thought this, I felt my hand rub against a loose stone, which I quickly lifted up and chucked at the man who was less than half a meter from me. It slammed into his shoulder before falling on his foot, causing him to yelp in pain as he fell over awkwardly and hit his head against the wall. Since both were now unconscious, I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Adrenaline caused my whole body to shake with every heavy breath.

Since they had caused me so much trouble, I had an idea. Albeit, not a just one. Though I could probably justify it as compensation for my pain. My self-justification gave me enough reason to go through the men's pockets and raid their wallets with a smug but morally inquisitive look. Upon finding nothing of value, I slowly continued with my business before I heard the sound of an old man laughing. Sitting at the end of the alleyway was an old man dressed in a business suit with his tie loosened and some bread in his hand. He seemed to be laughing at me for some reason. Did he find me fighting for my life amusing? Was this normal entertainment in this era? No, it couldn't be.
"Why are you laughing, old man?" I asked, shaky and annoyed.

"Because that was the most entertaining fight I have ever seen in this alley, and there are quite a few of them, innit," he said between his giggles.

"Well, I aim to please. I am Lou Barrett," I said with a cocky bow.

"I am Harold Lewak. Now, come and sit. If I got my ass kicked like that then I would be hungry. The bread will calm your nerves." he said, gesturing at his loaf of bread beside him.

"Thank you." I said before sitting down and accepting his kind offering.

Although the bread the old man had given me was stale, it was far better than anything I had at the moment. The old man had a certain air to him that seemed to welcome me in. To be honest, though, he seemed a bit strange. He was dressed far better than I as he was wearing a full suit with his collar unbuttoned like that of a politician after getting home from work. Yet, here he was eating stale bread and sitting in alleyways.

"If I may ask, why are you in this alley, where so many angry drunks frequent?" I asked him in an attempt at sounding like I was from this era, or as a butler from a British drama because that's the only reference I had.

"To be frank, I'm getting up there in age. Thus, I've been laid off and have no desire to tell the missus yet. So I sit here, watching the drunks and pickpockets pass by, waiting for something interesting to happen. A real shame, innit." he said with a deep and solemn sigh.

"Do you not have the ability to retire? Or is it something else?" I asked before eating the last of the bread.

"I can retire when I so wish and I have the means. But I was hoping for just one adventure to come wisp me away before I end up settling down to die," he said whilst making a motion with his hands to show him being wisped away.

"Well, that's quite morbid," I replied.

"Indeed. But it doesn't make it any less of the truth. While I'm waiting, I might as well help a few people on the way, such as yourself," he said, before giving me a humourous glare. I couldn't help but respect this man.

"If you wish to help me, you have already done more than enough by feeding me, and I thank you for being so kind. So I don't wish to ask much more of you, but do you know where I might be able to spend the night or find a job?" I asked, somewhat awkwardly but with a hopeful expression. His face got rather stern for a moment, furrowing his brow deep in thought before finally answering.

"Your best bet would be to find someone down at the docks to work for and house you in return, but that would be long term, so they might not give you a room tonight. I would check with the Chapel first."

"Thank you, you have been very helpful," I said, getting up. "I do hope we meet again. I wouldn't mind having another chat." And with that, I was off.

Problem was, I had no idea where the Chapel was. Whitechapel itself was already big enough and I didn't know it well enough to find it on my own easily, especially since it was so different now. Maybe I should have asked that old man where it was? Sadly, I had already been traveling for nearly an hour. If I tried going back now, he might not even be there. I had no other choice than to keep looking.

After a good while, I finally found the Chapel. It was dark, and the watch I had showed 10:38 in the bloody morning. Despite that, it was nighttime in London, and I had apparently arrived in this time period towards the end of the day. The chapel, which I originally assumed to have grey-ish white-coloured bricks, had turned a disturbingly darker shade by the lack of sunlight. Despite this, it seemed like a beacon of hope in the otherwise awful-looking district. Its pyramid-like roof, sitting atop the rectangular building with a bell tower in the front, sat among all the other buildings with great contrast.

All around me were beggars who were attempting to stay somewhat warm with whatever they could find. Some of which dogpiled together in the alleys, while others were bundled up under layers of stuffed coats similar to my own under shopfronts. Prostitutes also hung around the street, attempting to seduce any drunk that passed them by. The Chapel seemed so much nicer since no one dared to do anything on their front stoop. It was hard to tell if it was out of respect, or fear.

Since I had come this far, I climbed up the stone slab steps leading to the Chapel's big plain wooden door and knocked upon them as hard as I could. After a few moments of me standing in front of the door, it opened just slightly. A man who was so old he didn't look like he should be alive anymore, let alone moving around, peeked his head out of the crack between the doors. Drool hung from his chin like a spider's thread, as he eyed me up and down with an unimpressed look.

"It's bloody ten, what do you want?" He asked me harshly.

"Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour but I could use a place to stay the night and I was told you could house me. It just doesn't feel safe out here at night," I said. He eyed me up and down with a judgemental glare.

"You're right about it not being safe, but that isn't my problem. Ye have a penny as donation?" he said as if looking down on me. This money-grubbing geezer, he just wanted to extort me.

"No, I haven't, and I do not yet have the means to do so. Someone has stolen my wallet, and I am new to London," I lied, as I knew he probably wouldn't believe that I was from the future. Though most of it was the truth.

"Well, then we have no rooms for you. Begone with ye." he said, slamming the door in my face.

"Well, that's not very Christ-like!" I yelled from the other side of the door.

I was ignored, so without anything better to do, I set off to find a bridge or alleyway that might serve as a temporary shelter. My luck, which I thought was getting better, ended up not being good at all. I had no home, no job, no friends, the list could go on and on. I was starting to feel rather depressed about all this. Nothing was coming as easily as I thought it would, but you live with what you got. Now that I think about it, am I even alive? Could this be hell?

With nothing else to do, I just kept wandering for what seemed like hours, but my watch only showed 11:27. Hearing what sounded like a metallic thump, I looked down to see a small cloth pouch resting next to my foot. Picking it up carefully, I looked inside to see five coins that I recognized from old coin collections. I considered going back to the Church but it was so late that I didn't care. Deciding that I shouldn't wander any longer, I found a random alley and laid down on a stack of old newspapers underneath a tarp-style roof, hanging from the top of the alley. It was starting to get damp from the natural fog that had been coming in all day, and neither the papers, nor the tarp did anything to prevent it.

Right when I finally found a comfortable position to sleep, I heard the yelling of a young woman, followed by her screams. Getting up from my spot in a panic, I began running towards the screams. After a few seconds of running, I arrived at the place the screams had come from, an alleyway that was slightly bigger than the one I had chosen to rest in. In the shadows of the alleyway was a woman, laying on the cold, wet ground, in a pool of her own fresh blood. She was still breathing and had lost consciousness, but what quickly caught my eye was the three men standing above her.

One held a blunt bat-like object covered in blood, and each of the men were somewhat muscular. They could definitely do far worse than the boar-like men that pummeled me earlier. Each of them was dressed in worker's clothes with thick coats over top of them, and two of them were wearing newsboy caps. Two of them were also older looking and had dense bushy beards, but one was bald, and the other had short oily hair. The youngest of the three looked like he was in his teens, with a soot-covered hairless face and short blonde hair. He turned and saw me staring right at them. He clicked his tongue and, as if on cue, the other two turned to look at me. The white in their eyes shone like daggers in the moonlight amidst the gory dark backdrop.

Without hesitation, I ran as fast as I could, but I wasn't someone who ever did cardio by choice, so the three attackers began gaining on me quickly due to my lack of exercise. I began wanting to buy them off with the little money I had so I reached into my newfound moneybag and began throwing two of the coins at them. Although the money didn't exactly have the effect I wanted, it did something upon hitting their skin. Each of the coins burned two of the attackers' skin as it hit their faces, causing them to slow down as they winced in pain. What exactly was in these coins?

Seeing their reactions, I grabbed the last three coins and started stuffing them between my fingers so that they were sticking out just a little. I didn't know why they burned them, but I didn't care. It was the only thing I could think of. As the youngest of the men was closing on me I leapt forward, wrapped my arm around a lamp post, spun around it, and struck him right in the jaw. To my surprise, rather than knocking him out, it knocked him back and there were burn marks across his face from where I hit him. The other two watched eagerly as we fought with entertained looks. They obviously thought I was going to lose and didn't mind not lending a hand.

He lunged at me again, so I quickly dodged to the left and with a right uppercut, and struck him in the chin from below. He held his mouth and cried out as burn marks had formed on his chin. His mouth started dripping blood as he opened it up, letting out a pained yell, before I struck him in the mouth again. When I did, one of the coins in my fingers, upon making contact with his mouth, slipped from my grasp and into his throat. He cried out in agonizing pain as he choked on and then swallowed the coin. Clutching his chest, he began to vomit a blend of char and blood before falling to the ground. The other two men and myself watched in horror and surprise as their friend's body turned into an ashen-dust.

This was definitely hell. The others were no longer surprised, as they were both now rushing at me with pure rage. With both of them coming at me, I couldn't block or dodge them. I was as good as dead, but before I could accept my fate, a new player entered the ring by kicking them both as he fell from the top of a nearby building. Upon landing, the man stood with an aura that made you want to back off due to his mere presence, or at least he did, until he pulled out a flask and took a huge swig.

Now he didn't seem any different from any other drunks that roamed the street other than that he was clean-shaven. His body was rather toned from what I could see, and he wore similar clothes to what I was wearing, except his coat was brown which clashed with his black leather gloves. Strangely, his gloves seemed to reflect glints of moonlight every so often. The strange man had short golden hair except for in the back, where he had a long ponytail that stretched down most of his back, and was tied with string every twenty or so centimeters.

The two men quickly got up, as Mr. Ponytail put away the flask and raised his hands in a classic martial arts position. Both of them rushed at him, throwing a heavy fist each toward the ponytail man's face, but before the attackers could touch him, he dodged out of the way and in one fluid motion launched both opponents into the air.

Landing on their backs with a loud thud, they couldn't comprehend what had just happened to them, before the bald one received a swift punch to the throat. Now, most of the time this would just knock someone out cold, or crush their windpipe, but his strike beheaded him and the man turned to dust just as the other one did. The last one left alive saw this and ran off as fast as he could, causing the ponytail man to give chase.

"Wait," I called out, but he didn't listen. I was alone once again. Remembering the woman who they attacked, I ran back to her. She was still there, unconscious. I began to see if I could wake her, only to be called out from behind, by two cops.

"Come out of there, kid!" one of the officers said.

"It wasn't me I swear. I heard a scream so I came to check it out and she was like this," I replied as I came out of the alleyway.

"A likely story," the officer said, cuffing me as his partner ran up to the girl.

"She's still alive," the other said reluctantly.

"Get her to a doctor. I'll take this one in for questioning," the officer replied as he led me away.

The cold hard bed of the London police station left me groaning with displeasure, as I couldn't seem to get comfortable. However, it was better than the cold and damp alleyway. Of course, this whole scenario was stupid. After getting arrested I was questioned for several hours without rest. I ended up telling them everything that happened short of how I thought I was from the future, and how I got beat up.

They, of course, assumed I was insane and locked me up. Although there was no proof, I had been discovered with the unconscious woman, and was assumed to be her attacker. Mainly because my story was too insane for them to think it was true. It's not like I blame them, they're just being rational.

Stretching out once more, I had hoped to get comfortable but to no avail. The officers did believe one thing about my story, but at the mere mention of it, they groaned. The man with the ponytail and flask. They refused to tell me anything about him, but they wouldn't deny that I saw him. The possibility of them believing the rest of my story wouldn't rise even if that man gave testimony to my claim, he just wasn't a reliable source, as they'd put it.

I wasn't even sure if what I saw was real either, and I sure as hell wouldn't believe me had I been hearing the same story. I had killed a man by punching him with coins and having him accidentally swallow one. What made even less sense was the fact that he faded into dust directly thereafter. It was definitely something that you wouldn't consider normal.

The same thing happened to the other man who faced Mr. Ponytail. How? I don't know. Maybe the coins and the guy's gloves were magical and shit. All I knew was that they died. Because of that, I was now under arrest, and suspected of attacking a woman. I had too many questions, but the more I thought about it, the more depressed I became.

It was now about three in the morning, and I couldn't get any sleep because of what happened. The police were kinda weirded out by my watch as it was digital and digital watches weren't created for a long time but they confiscated it. It might be the only thing I have from the future that could be considered useful.

It was then that I noticed the sound of footsteps on creaking wood coming towards my cell. Rolling over, I sat up just in time for Mr. Ponytail to stop at the door of my cell, followed by one of the officers that interrogated me earlier. "You're free to go," the officer said, as he reached the door and unlocked the cell.

"Really? And what about all that about me being insane?" I asked sarcastically.

"The woman we thought you attacked woke up briefly and said that she was attacked by three men that matched the description you gave us to the letter. She also said she never saw a man matching your description," the officer apologized.

"I told you that I wasn't lying," I said with a tired but prideful smirk.

"Well, we still think you're insane but this man here…" he groaned, as he gestured at Mr. Ponytail, "said he requires your assistance with a matter of importance that goes beyond our paygrade, as he put it."

"I'm standing right here, ya twit," Mr. Ponytail said, giving the officer the stink eye, before pulling out his flask and taking a swig.

"Alright, as long as it gets me off the street, I don't care what you need me for. My name is Lou Barrett," I said with confidence before standing up and outstretching my hand for a handshake. He eyed me up and down for a moment, before finally accepting the handshake with a grip that made me want to writhe in pain. He kept holding it until the pain started showing on my face.

"Scott Langston, and don't be so cheery," he said as he released my hand from his gorilla-like grip. I had plenty of questions about what happened earlier that night, but something told me that asking him in the police station wasn't the best idea. The officer gave me my watch back and apologized for the inconvenience before I left.

After we left the police station, Scott Langston heaved out a heavy sigh before trudging down the foggy London street with me in tow. Then, he began to speak. It caught me completely off guard as I wasn't ready, mainly due to my lack of sleep.

"Ya want to know what happened? I know that you're curious," Scott said confidently.

"..." I couldn't say anything, not because I had nothing to say, but because I was surprised that he knew what I wanted to ask.

"Cat got your tongue, or did you forget everything that happened?" Scott asked sarcastically.

"No, I just am not sure where to start. Someone turned to dust after swallowing a coin, then you came in and turned the other one into dust as well, and before I could get a word out, you ran off after the third dude," I spurted out.

"I was actually wondering how you managed that, most people wouldn't have been able to kill a changeling… Especially armed with only the silver coins you had in your hand. Also, the one I gave chase did look like he had terrible taste in clothes, now that I think about it," Scott said, as he placed his hand on his chin and looked up in thought.

"Did you say, 'changeling'?" I asked with a surprised tone while ignoring that last part.

"Yes, what you fought were not one but three changelings. They are capable of taking the form of any living being. Their weakness, as with all monsters, is silver, but a few are sensitive to iron. This is precisely why they reacted to some of your coins. The monarchy is slowly reducing the amount of silver in coins... You're lucky you had some of the old ones," he blurted out as if he were an English professor that was making a point. I was muted by what was just explained to me. How should I respond? It's not like I didn't just show up in this time period with no warning whatsoever. Noticing my obvious silence, Scott continued.

"Monsters and other supernatural phenomena are in fact real, for the most part. I work for the Table, a group created to keep the peace between beings of supernatural origin. We also hunt down and exterminate supernatural beings that want to destroy the peace. I had been hunting those three that you encountered for several days, and one is still on the loose as of now, since I could not keep up with it," Scott explained further.

"..." I still didn't know what to say. Either he's insane or everything he's saying is true and I can't tell which.

"That's where you come in. You were able to kill a changeling, a feat that would require at least some training to pull off, with just your fist and a few coins," he explained, before grabbing his flask and taking another swig, only to realize there was nothing left for him to drink.

"Funny, I could have sworn I filled this earlier… Well, want to get a drink?" I was surprised he still wanted to drink more. The closer I got to him, the more I realized he stunk of rum. He must be one of those lost causes with an iron liver. Knowing that I couldn't really say no, I agreed and followed. Plus, I wanted to learn more about this so-called Table. It seemed rather interesting.

The place that Scott had led me to was probably the only tavern in all of London, with all its majestic size, that was open at three in the morning. The walls were made of old wood that would have rotted away years ago had they not been on the inside of the building. The whole place reeked of alcohol in an unsettling way, and half of the tables and chairs were partially broken.

There was even a loft, but I wouldn't be caught dead up there, It looked as if it could come crashing down any moment. The only good thing about it was the fact that, other than us and the bartender, the only people here were passed out in strange sleeping positions. Scott seemed unfazed by any of this. He only really seemed to care about the alcohol that he was drinking. The moment we arrived here, he even had the bartender go ahead and fill his flask.

I assume he might have the ability to never get drunk no matter how much he drank. That in itself was a scary thought to me. Once he's had his drink, he should start telling me what exactly was going on, as he refused to say any more until he was back at drinking. Yet, he still wasn't saying anything, so I decided to initiate the conversation.

"So… monsters exist. Can you tell me more about this Table, and what the hell just happened?" I asked awkwardly. He looked up from his drink, and stared into my eyes for a second with a kinda dumbfounded glare, before finally turning back to his drink.

"I told you before. What you fought were changelings, one of many kinds of supernatural beings. I remove them if they get violent because that is what the Table does as a whole," he reiterated.

"..." He saw my silence as me waiting for him to elaborate, I guess, because that's what he did.

"Monsters and other mythical creatures have existed since the dawn of mankind, maybe even before. By studying them or mating with them, some humans received magical abilities, creating witches and sorcerers. I can introduce you to a few of the nicer ones later. The group I belong to is known as the Table, and has hunted violent creatures since the time of King Arturius, better known as King Arthur. Merlin, Arthur's aid, was a sorcerer, and many of his knights were creatures or sympathizers that he had befriended. Together, they were known as the Round Table. Since then, the Round Table has changed names and spread throughout the world, coming to be known today as the Table. Although there were people, mainly religious zealots, who hunted the violent creatures, the Round Table was the first organization gathered for that single cause, to protect the peace between the two sides," Scott elaborated with a tired and bored expression.

I wasn't exactly surprised that King Arthur had been brought up in this conversation, but I had no real response. So instead, I spat out the stupidest thing I could have said, but the only thing I could think of. I asked him about every mythical creature I could think of, and whether they were real or not,"So… vampires are real?"

"Yes."

"Changelings?"

"One tried to kill you earlier."

"Fenrir's?"

"Only in Italy and Denmark."

"Leprechauns?"

"They run all the banking systems in the British Isles."

"What?" I asked, stupefied.

"They can remember anything related to currency. And like dragons, they hoard wealth. And they also live three times as long as humans do."

"Werewolves?" He Kinda paused for a moment before answering, as if he was having a horrid flashback.

"They are nearly extinct, partially because of me," he said with a solemn look. I decided he had some kind of vendetta with werewolves, so I didn't pursue that any further.

"Booze Sprites?"

"If there is a Sprite in my booze, so help me God, I will lock it in an iron-silver cage and shake it around until it dies," after he finished his threat he set his drink down, and a small glimmer rose out of the cup and sped off with lightning-like speed. He had turned away just in time to not see it, but I nearly spat out my own drink. Noticing my reaction, Scott swatted out his arm and caught the ball of light in his hand. At some point, of which I had only noticed now, was that Scott had removed his gloves. Bringing his closed hand closer to his face, he whispered something into his hand. Then, with what looked to be a nod of agreement, he opened up his hand, and the light flew off.

"I'm surprised you could see it as it truly was. Most people can't see supernatural creatures that want to blend in," Scott said with an intrigued look.

"Why can't people see them?" I asked.

"Most intelligent supernatural beings have a second form that allows them to blend in with the human world. Changelings are some of the few that can have as many forms as they want. Though forms can be either flesh, which causes physical changes to their body, or mimicry, which alters people's perception of them. That sprite was the latter," Scott explained.

"I could never see that before," I said with a genuinely confused look.

"That's strange. Either people are born with that ability or they learn to see them. However, you do not seem to know how you came to be able to see them. That is interesting. Were you, perchance, possessed at any point recently?" he asked, though his face showed that he was joking.

"Alright, what about this Table? How do you function? Is it government-run or independent?" I asked, brushing off his question. In the corner of the bar, one drunkard who had been sleeping got up groggily whilst holding his head, and meandered out of the bar. Scott waited to speak till the man had left, admiring the natural foam of the drink until the drunk had left.

"There are a couple thousand agents worldwide, but we are not everywhere, only where we are allowed to be. Some governments would rather deal with monsters themselves. But because of a lack of personnel, I am the only true agent in all of London. Thus, it is entirely my district. There is also a sorcerer and a witch that I am on friendly terms with, and they help me from time to time… Otherwise, it's just me. That is why I would like to recruit you," he said, without a care for the fact that I had brushed off his question.

"So.. you want me to join this Table and help you fight monsters and protect London?" I asked.

"In a way, yes," he said, before taking a sip of his drink.

"Dope," I replied with an eager attitude.

"There will be no drugs," he stated sternly.

"No, it's an idiom. It means awesome," I tried to explain.

"I don't see what this has to do with religion," Scott said with a slightly confused look. I was starting to realize that some terms had changed over time. I can tell him that I'm from the future, right? He deals with the supernatural all the time, so he might not think that I'm crazy, right? He did save me as well, so I think I can trust him.

"It's a term from the future," I said matter-of-factly.

"What?" he retorted with a dumbfounded look. I kind of felt as if he were looking at me in a different light now.

"The future, I'm from the future, and those phrases are commonplace in the future. Specifically, the twenty-first century," I explained further.

"The future, huh… Guess I really have to take you to that sorcerer I mentioned, to see if you're telling the truth," Scott said calmly.

"Great, I can't wait. Though, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea that monsters exist. Perhaps the alcohol will make it sound more believable," I said, before gulping down my mug. Scott and I drank for a good while, before I blacked out.

When I awoke, I tussled around, as one who desperately wished to find a more comfortable sleeping position. The headache I felt was bad, but not the worst I've ever had. Even so, I had no desire to get up. I had yet to even open my eyes, believing in my subconscious that the last day had been a very lucid dream. That is, until I heard something familiar.

"Hey you, you're finally awake," a voice that sounded like a scratchy mix between an old man and a pubescent boy said.

After hearing this, my eyes shot open, half expecting to wake up in a moving carriage as if it were the most natural next part of my lucid dream. Instead, I was in a yellow, candle-lit room with no windows. A desk sat on one end of the room, covered in old papers and books, while on the other, a lavishly designed door stood with more locks on it than on that of a paranoid crack-head. Otherwise, the room had nothing but the cot I was laying on, and the person whose voice I heard upon waking up.

He was rather old, or at least I thought it was a he, with long white hair and a rather younger-looking face. He adorned a grey robe that made me think that he was a cosplayer, or part of a cult. Actually, with all that has happened to me recently, that would be the least surprising thing I would've seen. Along the linings of his robe were interwoven gold markings that looked like a mix of old norse, latin, and Greek. It stood out a bit, but not as much as the creepy smile that he wore.

"I was worried that you might be extremely hurt the way Langston brought you here, the drunk bastard, but you seem alright." the man said with a now more caring than creepy smile on his face. I sat up in a slight rush so as to not show him any disrespect before speaking.

"Where am I, and who are you?" I asked calmly but with a wince of pain from my hangover.

"You are in the safest place in all of the world, my bedroom," he said before waving his hands around to show it off, but I was not impressed. "And my name is Iscariot, master of sorcery."

To be frank, not much surprised me at this point, but something about this guy was giving me a ton of mental red flags. I don't know whether it's his insanely scratchy voice, pride in his bedroom, or the fact that he unironically called himself a sorcerer, but it was creepy. Instead, I figured I should ask why I was here. That's logical right? Just avoid the crazy and get straight to the point.

"What am I doing here?" I asked.

"Well, as I said before, Mr. Langston brought you here unconscious. Don't know exactly why, but I think it's because he wants me to look you over. What I want to know is, are you from the future as he said? Other than your watch, I could find nothing on you that seemed futuristic." Iscariot said with a curious and dubious tone.

"Yes… I am from the future. That watch is digital and solar-powered, something that isn't available in the 1880s," I said with a sigh.

"Okay, you're from the future. I believe that, but how can you obtain power from the sun?" he asked in the same way a science teacher would ask the class idiot. It was as if he was completely disregarding the fact that I was actually from the future and just wanted to know how the technology worked.

"... The sun generates solar rays, and that watch collects rays and converts them into electricity, or energy. It then powers the watch and shows the time on the screen, I don't know any more than that. I am not an expert on it," I said, hoping that would quell his desire for knowledge of future machinery.

"Fascinating, the future holds such great things. I just hope I will live long enough to see it," Iscariot said with mild enthusiasm.

"I doubt it. That's over a hundred years in the future," I said, instantly crushing his dreams. He kinda looked depressed when I said this. Maybe I should have encouraged him rather than stomping on his dreams, or so I thought. He got happy again, almost joyous even after a second. I don't know what made him so happy, but I could tell it wasn't good; Screw me for pitying him.

"If you time-traveled then maybe others could too?" he almost yelled. "What caused you to time travel?"

"I-I don't know, I kind of just walked through an alley and the whole world changed on me," I stammered out as I didn't have the slightest clue.

"Oh, well that's disappointing…" he said redundantly.

"Ya, sorry," I said, feeling a bit sorry for the guy.

"Mmm… So have we been across the galaxy by the 2000s?" Iscariot asked, reluctantly curious.

"No, we only got to the moon, and the Americans do it first," I said with the thought of that giving him some hope for the future.

"Really? How did the colonies get more advanced than us?" he asked angrily but his scratchy voice made it sound utterly hilarious, like a bog witch shrieking about not getting tax benefits.

"I don't know, I'm not a history nut," I replied, as I wasn't exactly a model student. At this point, the conversation had gone in a strange direction and the news about the space race seemed to anger Iscariot, thus I wasn't going to continue. Thankfully, a knock at the door ended the conversation.

"Who is it?" asked Iscariot.

"It's Scott, the code is rapture," replied the knocker, who I was not pleased to hear was Langston. After hearing this, Iscariot hobbled over to the door, spending roughly thirty seconds unlocking the insane amount of locks ordaining it, and opened it. In stepped Scott, smelling of booze, his clothes ragged, carrying a faint scent of the docs' water, and looking fairly tired.

"Well…, is he from the future?" he asked with a raspy tired voice the moment he was inside and the door was shut behind him.

"Yes," Iscariot replied with a very monotone voice. He barely asked me any real questions, yet he was so willing to accept it as fact... Was he actually crazy? Scott sighed, took a deep breath, and as he released his breath, a word escaped his lips.

"Bollocks…"

The room was quiet for a while, too long, actually. Iscariot and I could tell that Scott was contemplating things, and neither of us was going to interrupt. I thought about asking Iscariot if he was up for a game while we waited, but that didn't sound very mature, and I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of a sorcerer and a monster hunter. The good news was that Scott finally spoke before I had the chance to make a fool of myself.

"Iscariot, what have you learned from him?" Scott asked.

Iscariot turned from facing me towards him before saying, "Not much. He has a watch that works far differently than anything I have ever seen that was either magical or normal. Also, his knowledge of machines from the future is rather small, as he can't tell me how to recreate them, but his basic knowledge surpasses that of common scholars of today."

"So he's a bloody genius here, but in the future, he's an idiot?" Scott asked rhetorically.

"Hey, I'm right here," I protested.

"And I couldn't care less," Scott replied with more sass than a mom after their child talked back.

"Yes, you could say he is a genius to us because of his future knowledge. Although, that doesn't matter. The fact that he is from the future in itself is a danger to the universe. He could accidentally alter the timeline without us knowing that it was even altered," Iscariot said to try and get the conversation back on track.

"Then he needs to be quarantined until he dies, is what you're saying?" Scott asked.

"I don't wish to be quarantined," I interrupted.

"You don't have to go that far. He is dangerous as an existence, but nothing happens without reason. I believe it would be more beneficial to have him join the Table and shadow you until we can figure out who or what caused him to come to this time period," Iscariot said. Scott looked like he was about to say something, but then he stopped, taking a long pause before speaking.

"Well, I was already planning on taking him on as an apprentice. I want him to join the Table, but I want to send him to the Table for his training. I already know that I would be an awful teacher," Scott finally said. I was starting to think that his slower reaction time was due to him being drunk.

"You do realize if you don't train your own apprentice soon, the Table heads are going to force one on you. Your father-in-law can only bail you out for so long," Iscariot replied.

"Don't talk about that, please... I get it, I will contact the Table about registering him as my apprentice. But he needs to stay here until then," Scott said, finally giving in.

"That's fine. You know time is altered in this room," Iscariot said.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, not because of the Table discussion, but because of the comment about the room I was currently in.

"This room was created in a synthetic dimensional space where time is far slower than the outside. Just since we started this conversation, which has only lasted a moment, an hour has passed outside. It also cannot be opened except from the inside or by using a magic key, which is why this is the safest place on earth," Iscariot answered. I was unsure of how to react to the bomb that was released from Iscariot's mouth; it was something that seemed impossible except to the imagination of theoretical physicists.

"If you think that's amazing, Iscariot should tell you the story of why his voice is that of an old man who somehow hasn't reached puberty," Scott said with a chuckle.

"I don't think I want to tell him that story, for my own pride's sake," Iscariot replied sheepishly.

"Well, now I want to hear it," I said hoping to coerce Iscariot.

"Yeah, tell the twit your bloody hilarious story!" Scott said, encouraging him more.

Iscariot sighed. "Fine, I was messing around with an alchemical experiment and caused an explosion that sent my family jewels into my stomach permanently. This gave me a very high-pitched squeaky voice and the older I get, the more insane I sound," he said with an almost reminiscent tone.

"But you are insane, so it's more like a warning siren," Scott said jokingly.

I did everything I could to not chuckle, so instead, I just acted concerned. "Remind me to never mess with magic," I said with a pained look of warning.

"Oh, I wasn't using magic. I was experimenting with gunpowder," Iscariot corrected. Well, now I think he might just be more idiotic than he is letting on, or maybe he's just eccentric, as Scott said.

"With that, I will take my leave. I leave the future twit in your hands, Iscariot. I will return with news from the Table," Scott said, adjusting his coat and then unlocking the many locks on the door. Once he had left it was just me and Iscariot in an uncomfortable silence yet again.

"Want to play chess?" he asked, to finally break the silence. Apparently, when I was wanting to ask if he wanted to play a game, he was thinking the same thing. Wait, if he's thinking the same thing I am, and he's insane, what does that say about me?

Nearly four hours had passed since Scott left, three of which included an impromptu lesson on how to use a magical chess set. It's pretty much the same as regular chess, except the pieces are controlled with your mind. Of course, this also came with an explanation of how magic worked. The way how Iscariot explained it, was that magic and science share one commonality.

They have a mathematical formula explaining their existence. For example, if fuel is equal to F, the air is equal to A, and ignition is equal to I then would produce a form of Fire. The only difference between the two is that the fuel used by magic is an energy that flows through all living things, whilst in science, the fuel can be practically any flammable substance. By imagining the formula and focusing my energy on an item or a certain area I can create or control what the given formula allows for.

Although, there are many tools, like the chess pieces, that have formulas inscribed into them, making it so that you don't have to imagine said formulas as you use the magic every single time. These are usually wands or staffs, though, that can be used to cast spells. Of course, Iscariot explained that magic items are not tools with multiple capabilities, so they can only have one single purpose. That and these items can only be used by someone who has fused their life with the item. In other words, they have to rub some blood, or other vital substance, on the item in order for it to become theirs. I had to rub some of my own blood on the bottom of each chess piece before I could use it. Controlling a specific piece with my mind was a lot harder than I had originally thought.

I tried moving a rook, and instead I ended up flinging a knight across the room. What's worse is that the chess pieces cannot be lifted from the chessboard without magic. The chessboard itself was a magic item that was imbued with energy beforehand, kind of like a magic battery. Honestly, I think he was trying to gauge my magic power, like at the beginning of a video game. The only difference was I couldn't control shit, unlike every main character ever.

As we played, I wondered aloud if Scott used magic. Iscariot frowned dismally and told me that Scott hated magic, not because of religious or moral reasons, but because he couldn't imagine the formulas properly. Scott also refused to use magic tools because his body couldn't handle them. He didn't seem to be telling me everything about Scott's refusal of magic tools, but I didn't think it was wise to ask what it was that he was hiding. Eventually, I got the hang of it and was able to actually play the game. I lost due to being so focused on moving the pieces, rather than the game itself. During the game, though, I had a thought.

"Hey, Iscariot, if I'm going to be hunting monsters, shouldn't I have a weapon?" I asked, as it was something that would probably be necessary.

"Yes, but I am not going to give you one. That's Mr. Langston's job," Iscariot replied.

"I understand but once I have a weapon, could you place a magic formula similar to that of the chess pieces on it for me?" I asked.

Iscariot arched his brow at this, then smiled. "I'm interested in your train of thought. I will do that for you, but only if you can learn to control this chess piece," he said, pointing at the queen. So, I spent the rest of the time trying to make the chess piece float around and fly through the air with decent control. I had figured out how to slide pieces around, so that wasn't the issue. He was trying to gauge my control, of which I didn't possess much.

I did end up controlling the piece fairly well but only after nearly shitting myself just trying to magically spin the damn thing in a circle. Iscariot told me after that I didn't need to strain myself… that it was a matter of mental focus, not muscle focus. I think the training would have gone a lot smoother had my teacher not sounded like a helium-inhaling crackhead grinding his teeth on a chalkboard. I had to stop myself from laughing multiple times, which made me lose my focus.

We were in the middle of learning how to make the chess piece spin like a saw blade when Scott finally knocked at the door and gave his password. I slowly lowered the chess piece back to the board while Iscariot started unlocking the door. Once Iscariot had opened the door, Scott stood there looking more disheveled than before. This time, there was another smell coming off him too. It almost smelled like stale vomit. Neither of us knew what to think.

"What happened to you?" we both asked.

"I rode the train to Warwick in order to speak with the European leader of the Table about you. But I couldn't sleep on the train, even on the way back. I haven't slept in three days," Scott said before sitting on the cot, pulling out his flask, and taking a swig.

"Oh, that's rather unfortunate," Iscariot replied compassionately, but it only sounded sarcastic.

"Wait, it's been three days? But it's only been a few hours here," I said but they both looked at me with a look of dumbfoundedness.

"Did you forget that this room is in another dimension where time is slower or did Iscariot hit you in the head?" Scott asked as if I were an idiot.

"I did no such thing, although I did consider it," Iscariot refuted in a way that made me warier of his presence whilst alone.

"Anyways, here's a silver knife," Scott said, handing me a hunting-style knife in a leather sheath.

"Thank you," I replied as I looked it over.

"You can get a different weapon once I decide your training is far enough along, or I decide to fully trust you," Scott said, stating his expectations.

I was fine with that because now, Iscariot would have to hold up his end of our deal. Thus, I handed it to him and he, knowing what I wanted him to do, started carving on the handle. I think Scott saw this but did nothing to stop it. Probably because he was too tired to care. Within a minute, Iscariot had already inscribed the formula on the hilt and started to hand it to me, pausing for a moment right before.

"Grit your teeth," he said in a monotone voice.

"What?" I started to ask before he stabbed my hand with his carving tool and placed the knife handle in it. This stained the handle a dark crimson but I was in far too much pain from being stabbed to care at the moment. All I could do was let out a pained yell.

"Why would you do that, you prick!?" I asked in a panicked tone.

"I gave you plenty of warning," he said, obviously not sorry about it. What annoyed me more was that Scott was chuckling at my pain. Now that I think about it, he may not have stopped Iscariot because he knew that was going to happen. That bastard!

"Alright, Iscariot, I thank you for taking care of the kid for a while. We're going to head to my flat for the rest of the day so I can sleep and then I will begin his training," Scott said with a yawn.

"You're welcome, and please don't bother me for about a week, I would like to sleep for at least a few hours before you come knocking at my door again," Iscariot asked with an equally tired, but slightly more energetic, sigh.
"That's fine with me, and do you have any of those magic keys you can give the kid so he can find your room if he needs to?" Scott inquired.

"Of course. Here you are," Iscariot said, handing me a ring from his pocket. "This is the key to my room. You will not be able to open the door, but I will know that it's either you, the Witch, or Scott at the door," Iscariot said, explaining it to me as if I didn't just hear his conversation.

"Thanks," I replied. Wait, what did he say about a witch? Is it the same witch that Scott said he knew?

Once we were outside of Iscariot's building, I noticed that we were in the same place I had passed through on my way to the Church. Although it was now midday, the streets had a similar air to them as before. There were a lot more people going around town than yesterday. Four and five-story buildings stood towering on either side of the brick road. Various shops that you would rarely see in the modern day were quite busy, while others sat vacantly. People of all ages, were distributed along the streets with carts to sell homemade goods. It was much nicer than Whitechapel.

"Where are we?" I asked, as I had yet to learn the full geography of London.

"Farringdon, just outside of Whitechapel, my flat is only a short walk from here," he said turning east, I think; I'm bad with cardinal directions, especially since now I had a very vague sense of where we were. Nonetheless, I followed him.

The building he led me to, a two-story brick building that looked like a crack den, seemed as if it were about to fall apart from the deteriorating brick walls to the cracked windows. Not to mention the horrible design choice of having a partial balcony on the second floor. The front door of the building was of an old and decrepit wood that creaked and moaned every time the wind would ever pick up. With every new surface that got into view, I was finding something about this place that I was fearful of. How was this up to code in any way? It could have just been some simple weather damage that hadn't been taken care of, so I didn't complain. He was letting me stay here, so I think I'll be fine.

Following Scott the rest of the way in, he led me up the creaky and partially broken stairway to a door that he unlocked to reveal his apartment. It was small, with two rooms and a living area that was also the kitchen. Each room held a bed with no sheets, only blankets, and a single pillow. The walls were grey and barren. On top of that, the wallpaper was peeling badly in some places. In the living area was a couch, a wood stove, and a table. The wood stove, which also acted like an oven as far as I could tell, had but seen little use. In the center of the room, the couch sat with several holes in it, and oh my God there is a dead rat being eaten by a living rat underneath it. To add to the mess, the room was littered with rum bottles, empty and full. Scott lived here and didn't even seem to care, he just strolled into the room on the far left of the apartment and shut the door.

"This place is a mess," I yelled toward his room.

"Then clean it up," I heard him say back, albeit muffled, through the door.

Grabbing the only broom I could see, which was covered in dust, I began sweeping out of spite, starting with the rats. I swatted the live one away and swept up the dead one. Damn, there was a lot of dust in here! Because of the dust I was kicking up with the broom, I decided to open the windows and allow myself some breathing room before continuing to sweep. After a good hour of cleaning, I decided to lie on the couch and mess with my new knife. The knife itself didn't seem very special, although it wouldn't be legal in London during the time period that I was there.

Due to the magic formula, I could make the knife fly anywhere I wanted with my mind. Kind of like another appendage that was attached to my body with a magic string. I could make it spin like a saw blade just as I made the chess piece do, and even make it fly around the room at high speeds as if I was a planet with a knife-shaped satellite. Eventually, I stopped because I accidentally launched it into the wall a few too many times. Getting bored of knife practice, I decided to take a nap on the couch. A few hours later though, I was awoken by the sound of Scott telling me to get up.

"No, fuck you, let me sleep," I replied groggily.

"What was that? I said get up!" he yelled as he kicked the couch from behind, making me fall on the floor with the couch laying on top of me. Damn, this couch is heavy… How in the hell did he even kick it over?

"It's time for your training," he said, as I slowly climbed out from under the couch. He then meandered out the door of the apartment without me, only to open it after a few seconds just to tell me to get my ass moving. I complied with a tired roll of my eyes and followed after him.

"So, where are we going, and what kind of training are we doing?" I asked as I rubbed the crust which had formed in the corner of my eye.

"You ask too many questions. We have to keep a lookout for the changeling that attacked you. We also need to check out a rumor that a succubus has been killing people who have refused to help her with their work," Scott explained as if I should have already known this.

"Succubus, as in a demon prostitute? One is attacking people who won't sleep with them?" I said with an unconvinced tone as I followed along.

"They aren't demons, they are a subclass of the Amazons. Immortal creatures, so long as they feed off of the life force of humans. Usually, they are peaceful, but when they are desperate, they will likely attack people," Scott corrected.

"And if we find this Succubus, do we have to kill it?" I wondered out loud.

"Not really. Although succubi will attack humans when desperate, they will not kill them. Thus, we don't need to kill it, just detain it and hand it over to Mama Louise," Scott said with an almost reluctant expression.

"Who is Mama Louise? Another member of the Table?" I asked curiously. It kind of sounded like the name of a mafia head.

"No. She runs all of the Succubus brothels in Whitechapel, and several all over London. She can get the Succubus stabilized or kill it, it's up to her," Scott explained. So she was kind of like a mafia head.

"Umm, okay then. Now, you said before that you watch over all of London. If you're going to be strictly in Whitechapel for a while, then who is watching the rest of London?" I asked with a worried expression.

"Good question. I asked the Head Consul of the Table if they could send someone to watch over it for me. Whether they did or not, I have no idea," Scott said. I was starting to think that this Table was very poorly managed.

"You're really just going to leave it at that?" I asked due to the shock of learning that anything could happen in the rest of London and we would be none the wiser.

"There's not really much else I can do. Although the Table is spread all over the world, that doesn't mean that we have infinite resources and people. We are spread thin as it is, and we are trained with that in mind. So we make allies with the supernatural any chance we can get. That way, they can deal with a lot of their problems without us, but when something goes rogue, or when there's a conflict that needs a third party, we are always called upon," Scott explained.

"Okay, then. if that's how it is..." I said. We continued on silently the rest of the way.


***


We were currently at Mama Louise's, a high-end brothel at the edge of Whitechapel. Lining its walls were regal lamps and fine purple and red colours. Each room that we passed by on our way in was fitted with a hot bath, bed, and various amenities. Though, where we stopped was the private lounge in the back. It featured a fully stocked bar, several couches, and a sinister but noble villain aesthetic. Mama Louise, the owner, was an older-looking woman whose body was quite robust. She wore a purple gown, and was smoking a long thin pipe as we sat across from her on one of the red couches. The smoke from her pipe matched the colour of her long white hair that was poorly put up. Even if I was into older women, she wouldn't have really appealed to me. I had thought that Succubi could seduce anyone… Guess not.

"State your business, Scott. You and I both know you don't have all day," Mama Louise finally said to break the silence, letting out a dramatically long fume of smoke from her mouth upon finishing.

"Mama Louise, we would like to ask you about the rumors of a Succubi that has been attacking people lately. Are they true, and if so, where can we find this Succubus?" Scott asked with more respect than I had ever seen him show anyone up till now. It almost seemed like he was afraid.

"Is that what I was woken up for? The Table is becoming rather rude; and yes, I know who you are referring to," Mama Louise asked back and responded, obviously annoyed.

"That is great. Then, if we could know who it is and where to possibly find her, we could detain and return her—" Scott said before Mama Louise raised her hand as if to tell him to shut his mouth.

"I want you to kill her," Mama Louise stated without a hint of mercy on her tongue.

"May I ask why? I thought the Succubi protect their own?" Scott asked with a confused look.

"We do protect our own, but she is a traitor. She has killed one of my clients and that is considered punishable by death among us Succubi. It has worked out perfectly that you would arrive before I could kill her myself," Mama Louise replied with a partially threatening gleam in her eyes.

"Mama Louise, we are here to stop her from attacking humans but we cannot allow ourselves to be caught up in the affairs of the Succubi. She will be captured and brought to you so that you may deal with her. Only if she attacks us will we kill her," Scott stated slowly, as he seemed to be trying to not say anything incorrectly or that could be taken in the wrong light.

"That is understandable, considering the pact we Succubi made with the Table... So be it. She was last seen hiding within the Chapel here in Whitechapel. I will await your return with her, dead or alive," she said, waving us off with faint annoyance. I could only watch. I knew nothing of what was going on. That woman knew this, and acted like she didn't even notice me. To match, Scott also ignored me and spoke to her like he was at a peace meeting that could go sour at any moment. From the way she acted, it felt like I was definitely sitting in front of a mafia boss who wasn't pleased with our visit. I was right to assume. Once we were outside Mama Louise's, Scott released a heavy sigh before reaching into his coat pocket, grabbing his flask, and chugging half of the contents.

"Ugh, I was too sober for that. I swear she was staring daggers into me the whole time. Glad I talked to her when she was in relatively good spirits," he said with a deep gasp after taking that all in.

"Is she that scary? She just seemed annoyed that we were bothering her..." I asked as she just seemed to be playing with him.

"Kid, if you ever get on that woman's nerves, there is no place on earth that she couldn't find you; and once she finds you, you will be tortured and killed," he said with the straightest of faces. I was now terrified, and could see why he acted the way he did in there.

We strode through the streets of Whitechapel with an aura that seemed to attract a lot of attention from my point of view. Scott, on the other hand, didn't seem to care. It was as if there was nothing that could bother him. At least, I would think that if he hadn't shown that he was terrified of Mama Louise. The people around us would stare as if we were circus performers that had gone out for a drink while still in costume.

"Why are they staring at us?" I asked Scott.

"Well Lou, I am wearing much nicer clothes than they are, and reek of alcohol, so many of them assume that I would be perfect to rob. They don't care much about you. They probably think I paid you chump change to be my bodyguard or you're a beggar, hoping that I will give you something," Scott explained as if he was looking down on them. However, that was not his intention by any means. He just naturally seemed like a dick, from what I could tell. Though I was aghast... Did people really think I was dressed like a beggar? I thought it looked cool, although many people in the 20th century would call me an edgelord.

"Do you really think I dress like a beggar?" I asked with a tone of uncertainty.

"You do. And you have no money anyway, so you would be a beggar had I not taken you in," Scott stated honestly whilst eyeing the headlines of today's newspaper being handed out by a young boy on the street corner.

"You have me there," I reluctantly replied.

"Anyways, we're here," he said as we arrived at the chapel. It wasn't that far from Mama Louise's at all. Scott hopped up the stone steps and began knocking on the door. It echoed a bit inside, before we heard footsteps moving quickly from behind the door. A moment later, the door opened just enough for the Priest to peek his head out. It was the same old man who had refused to house me. He looked at Scott and I swear I heard him say "oh shit" before pulling his head back in and attempting to shut the door. Scott reached in before he could, and opened up the door completely.

"M—Mr. Langston! You surprised me. What brings you to Whitechapel?" The Priest asked, but as he spoke, he seemed out of breath.

"We are on the hunt for a succubus who is suspected of being at your chapel, Father," Scott said as an interrogator would. With every word, Scott inched in closer to the Priest, making him quite uncomfortable.

"There couldn't be any creatures that you hunt here, these grounds are consecrated," he replied with an awkward smile. No matter how you looked at it, the Priest looked like he was trying to hide something.

"I think these grounds need to be reconsecrated, because if it was, then this vampire charm would be red hot," he said, pulling a small medallion out of his pocket.

"I see, I will have that done, but please leave. I am busy," the Priest stammered as he tried to hurry us out.

"Lou, search the chapel," Scott said to me sternly, as he looked around. I wasn't sure what I was searching for, but I started to amble toward the end of the chapel.

"You cannot do that, this—" the Priest tried to make a rebuttal, but was hastily interrupted.

"We can do anything in our jurisdiction so long as it is to keep the peace, and you fall within mine. The Church of England has agreed to let us handle supernatural problems in or around Churches as we see fit," Scott said with a glare that could stop a bear in its tracks. The Bishop shut his mouth and didn't say any more, despite looking like he wanted to cuss Scott out.

Approaching the back left end of the Chapel, I found a door that was ajar. As I stepped towards the door to open it, there was a crash from the other side. It was loud enough that Scott came running towards it. Charging through the door into a long hallway spanning the side of the chapel, I saw a red haired woman around her mid-twenties, dressed in 19th-century lingerie bolting towards a door at the end of the long hallway. Running back there towards the front of the Chapel, the hall only held a confession booth and a few candle stands, so there was plenty of room to chase her. Rushing after her, Scott came running up behind me. I pulled out the silver knife and started forcing as much energy I could get into it, before chucking it at her. Because I had only received it today, I didn't have enough control to hit a specific part of her body, so instead, I aimed for the door.

To my surprise, it lodged itself in the door right next to the handle as she attempted to grab it, stopping her in her tracks. The girl turned towards us as if ready to fight, but her face showed that she was scared. It seemed as though she thought we were going to kill her. Of course, in her defense, I would think someone was going to kill me if they flung a knife at me as well. The girl stood completely still, as if she were despairingly weighing her options. Although there was a door right behind her, she didn't dare flee toward it. Probably because she was waiting for us to make the first move, or perhaps she'd just given up? I didn't know what Scott was waiting for, all I knew was we had to capture her. Then Scott finally spoke with a kind and caring voice.

"Listen, if you come quietly we will bring you to Mama Louise without a scratch on you," Scott said.

"I can't go back there, they will kill me," she pleaded desperately but with a stoic look reminiscent of a cornered snake.

"What caused you to kill your client?" I asked, hoping to learn her side of the story.

"This isn't an interrogation, kid," Scott snapped at me, giving me a sharp glance.

"He wanted me to join him and help kill Mama Louise. He was a collector for a small branch of the Leprechaun banking system that wanted to use the Succubi to make themselves grow in power," she said. This caused Scott to cautiously step toward her. She cowered in fear but instead of attacking her like I thought he would, he questioned her in a calm tone.

"We will not hurt you, but I want to know more. If what you're saying is true, then we could clear your name with Mama Louise and stop this branch group. I apologize for being so rude. My name is Scott Langston as you may already know," Scott said as he stripped off his glove, extending his hand to her. She looked up at him and nodded.

"Isabell," she said with suspicion, before shaking his hand.

Isabell laid out what happened, and why Mama Louise thought she was a traitor. Her story was fairly simple. A collector disguised as a client offered her a deal to kill Mama Louise. Refusing to betray Mama Louise, Isabell turned down the offer. The collector realized that she needed to die, lest word would get out, and attacked her. However, she ended up killing him in the process. One of her coworkers walked in on this and chased Isabell off even after she had explained the situation.

Her coworker then told Mama Louise that Isabell had killed a client, but not the part about why. She must have already sided with this branch group before then, and Isabell not being there made her coworker's story more believable to Mama Louise. Not knowing what else to do, she fled to the Priest, who was one of her best customers, to hide until she escaped elsewhere.

After hearing Isabell's story we ended up heading back to Mama Louise's with Isabell, but not until after we had the Priest give her a nun's robe. We couldn't go back there with her in lingerie, could we? Scott wasn't too happy about the Leprechauns doing shit, but that wasn't his job. He only kept the peace as he put it. Anything between monsters that didn't involve humans wasn't his domain. Despite that, he was still brought in to be a third-party mediator by monsters all the time.

"Hey, Barrett?" Scott said, gaining my attention.

"Yes?" I answered curiously.

"How did you get so good with that knife even though you've only had it for less than a day?" Scott asked.

"I practiced at the flat, but I can't do much at all without a ton of focus. Though I don't think I'm that good at it," I replied honestly.

"Maybe I should introduce you to my witch friend if you're that good with that thing," he said.

"Are you going to get me drunk and put me in their house, like before with Iscariot?" I asked jokingly.

He chuckled for a second. "No, I am good friends with Iscariot, so I can do that kind of stuff with him. I can't do that stuff with the witch, since she would most likely experiment on you," Scott said.

I chuckled. "She's that bad?" I asked with a bit of disbelief.

"Yes'sir," he replied with a smile and, as usual, he pulled out his flask and took a huge swig. I was starting to get used to his alcohol addiction, which isn't good. Isabell started chuckling at us from up in front.

"Why do you seem so cheeky?" Scott asked curiously.

"Have you two been working together long? You seem like you've known each other for a good while," Isabell asked.

"No, today is the kid's first day," Scott said, throwing his thumb to his side in order to gesture at me.

"You two just seem to work well together," Isabell stated.

"Thanks, but that doesn't make the job any better," Scott replied, as if to put down her opinion.

"That's strange to hear from the wolf slayer of London," she said. Scott's eyes seemed to snap at the mention of that name.

"Don't ever call me that again, or I will kill you and leave your body for the birds," Scott said with a threatening glare before tramping ahead of her and drinking more from his flask. Isabell slunk back next to me and seemed even more terrified now than when she was cornered in the chapel.

"What were you talking about?" I asked her.

She looked at me as we strolled and said, "Did no one tell you?" As soon as she realized I had no clue what she was talking about, she latched onto my arm, getting close to my ear. "He single-handedly murdered the werewolf population in London for some reason a few years back. Rumor says, he was avenging his old partner, or his wife. The rumors aren't clear about which one, though. Now, no one who wants to live messes with him. It's the only reason London is so peaceful. No one wants him to snap again," Isabell explained.

"Jesus, he killed every werewolf in London? By himself? How many lived here?" I asked in a hushed voice so that Scott wouldn't hear it.

"Over two thousand in total," she said. Jesus Christ! That's a lot, and yet, he's scared of Mama Louise.

"Fuck," I said out loud. It was the only word that came to mind, but it fit.

"I mean, if you truly want to, you could just ask me," she said, changing the subject and latching onto my arm with seductive puppy dog eyes. For some reason, I felt compelled to accept. Was this a succubus trait or was she just that good at her job?

"Thanks for the offer, but sadly, I don't have any money." I answered honestly. "But I'm probably lucky for that…" I mumbled to myself. No offense to her but I was fairly sure that STDs weren't taken very seriously during this time period.

"What?" she asked, confused by my incomprehensible mumbling. Letting go of my arm, she seemed offended that I had turned her down… or maybe it was my response?

"Nothing, let's continue," I said, taking bigger strides to move a bit faster as we went on our way to Mama Louise's.

Behind us, a pale set of eyes watched us from the rooftop of an old building. The figure wore a newsboy cap, a white shirt, and grey pants that were held up with suspenders. He wasn't very fashionable, but for the time period, he fit in perfectly. The figure then disappeared into the dusk light and fog. Looking up from the ground, I tried to avoid Isabell's eyes only to see that Scott had stopped.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"We're alone," Scott said, before taking a protective stance as if guarding Isabell.

Looking around, I saw that what he said was true. The streets were empty, not even a rat was around. The fog that had started forming in the streets began to get thicker and thicker. Isabell latched onto my left arm even tighter as she noticed what Scott meant. I drew my knife with my right hand and was prepared to fight. Or so I thought.

The silvery glint of a blade struck Isabell from my left, revealing a shadowy figure from within the fog, jamming a dagger deep into her back before I could react. Isabell gasped in pain as she turned to dust just like the changelings had the other night had. Scott charged the figure but I was between him and it; so still in shock, I desperately swung my blade at the figure with my right hand. He ducked under my blade and effortlessly stabbed me in the stomach. The tearing of flesh, muscle, and internal organs echoed up through my chest and into my head. Gasping for air, I couldn't think. I couldn't move. Eventually, I thought "That hurt like hell," before falling to my knees with the knife still wedged in my stomach. As I fell, Scott jumped in between me and the figure, but the shadowy assailant jumped backward at the last second, avoiding a kick in the face from Scott.

"You okay, kid?" Scott asked with a gritty but worried tone, as he looked back towards me and then at the figure.

"Yeah, just fucking great. If you beat him, could you let me kill him? I want to give him some payback," I said between pained gasps for air, gritting my teeth. With every word, I felt a chill down my spine. Beads of sweat dripped from my brow. All I could do was clench the knife stuck in my gut with my left hand for dear life.

"Sure thing, kid. Use this to clean the wound. It's high strength," he replied, as he threw me his flask.

I shakily dumped half of the contents on my wound. The burn was gut-wrenching, so I drank the rest of the contents of the flask, attempting to numb the pain. Holding the wound as tightly as possible with my left hand, I used my right hand and teeth to rip my shirt to tie around the wound and increase pressure. While I was tending to my wounds, Scott had started to fight our attacker under the streetlamp, who was revealed to be a man in his late twenties. Though, he looked to be a street boxer, or a fighter of some kind.

Scott began throwing punches at the man, but he was always a step away. It must have known that his gloves were lined with silver, or it just didn't want to be hit. Once the figure saw an opening, he punched Scott in the jaw. Stumbling back for a moment, Scott almost looked impressed.

"You can hit," Scott remarked respectfully before spitting out a small bit of blood from his lip.

"Well, you can take a hit," the man said in a thick Welsh accent.

"I'm a drunk, I don't feel much anymore," Scott replied sassily.

"Perhaps, but do you know who or what I am?" the man asked.

"I don't know and I don't care," Scott said before running towards the figure. But it was ready, and as Scott threw out a punch with his right hand, it dodged to the right. Our attacker grabbed his wrist and struck out its palm into Scott's stomach, flipping him onto his back with practically no effort. Landing with a grunt, Scott stopped moving.

"Stay down for a moment while I get my knife," the man said, as it began sauntering towards me.

"Who are you?" I asked as I scooted back towards one of the buildings. Holding my knife with my right hand, I extended it towards him threateningly, while my left hand desperately held the other knife in my stomach. Beads of sweat began pouring down my face as I do, and I can feel my arm getting heavier.

"Ah, yes. I am in a new body so you wouldn't recognize me. I am the changeling that escaped from you before, and now it's time for you to pay for killing my kin," the man said, kicking the knife from my hand and stomping the same foot down on my left hand. His foot pushed the knife even farther into my gut, as blood gushed out. I yelled in agony before finally passing out.

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

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

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

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

***


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, that's good."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***


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

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

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

"What could be that important?" Iscariot asked grouchily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***



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

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

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

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

"As am I. I wouldn't be making tea otherwise," she replied in a snarky tone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Late 2019," I answered.

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

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

***


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Iscariot believes, so and that's good enough for me," Scott replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, but I don't know if you would survive," Elysif said with a fairly concerned expression.

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

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

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

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

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

"What are these?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

"What are the stars for?" I asked.

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

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

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

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause you to think about something as sad as that," I said apologetically.

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

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

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

Thrusting out my knife at Scott, the blade passed by him as he dodged to his left. While my arm was extended, I swung the blade towards him while rotating my back leg to apply more force. Scott reacted by slamming a glass bottle into my wrist and knocking the blade from my hand. Then followed by thrusting a second bottle at my face with his left hand. I ducked quickly, and attempted to kick him with my left leg, but Scott was already prepared and blocked it by swatting my knee with the bottle. The pain of having my kneecaps struck froze me for a moment, which Scott used to bring the bottle he had thrust at me before down on my head, shattering the bottle, and causing me to crumple down to the floor. I had lost.

"Good job, kid. And what, it only took you two months?" Scott chuckled to himself as he took a swig of the bottle he blocked my knife with. Thankfully the one he broke over my head was empty.

"Don't get sarcastic with me. I know I still suck. I can't even land a good hit on you," I replied sheepishly, as I picked the little bits of glass out of my hair.

"Yeah, you still suck, but you came close to landing a hit, and that is better than most," he said, offering me some of his rum. I gladly accepted and took a good swig. As soon as I had my drink, I waved my hand like I had some kind of telekinetic power or something, and my knife flew off the floor and onto my hand, where I promptly returned it to its sheath before getting up.

"Now go get ready for the banquet," Scott said, as if I was supposed to know what he was talking about.

"What banquet?" I asked with a somewhat confused tone.

"Oh right, I forgot to tell you. Mama Louise invited us to a banquet as honored guests," Scott said, realizing that he never told me.

"For what?" I was now worried for my life. Mama Louise was no joke, according to Scott, and if we refuse, there is the possibility that she might start a war.

"You know that Succubus. What was her name? Isabell. When we had that whole fiasco, it ultimately resulted in the discovery of a plot that would end with Mama Louise dying. A small group of Leprechauns wanted to take control of all that Mama Louise had. The majority of Leprechauns had decided that war with Mama Louise was out of the question, so they had the splinter group taken care of, and the two were able to talk it out with no unnecessary casualties," Scott explained nonchalantly.

"Wait, then why are we involved?" I asked. It had been two months since that had happened, and in those two months, a lot had been done. Elysif and I had become great friends, Iscariot had taught me more magic, and I had gotten a lot of time to train with Scott. Otherwise, nothing else happened, the changeling hadn't shown itself in a while, and the only thing we'd really done was become third parties for small squabbles between monsters.

"We started it. And not only that, she also invited Elysif and Iscariot," Scott said with a strangely worried look.

"Did you remember to tell them?" I asked, expecting him to say no.

He stopped and thought for a moment. Taking a bigger swig of rum, Scott looked into the distance deep in thought. I could see the gears turning in his head, before he finally looked at me and, for a moment, I thought he was going to say yes. "No," he said. I sighed and walked to my room.

"I'll go and tell them. I just got to get changed first," I said as I shut the door behind me.


***


I knocked on the door of the apartment below us and, within a few seconds, Elysif had already opened it. "What is it? I'm working on something that is very delicate," she said in her usual brash manner.

"We have a banquet to get to," I replied, ignoring her "very delicate" issue.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, blushing, simultaneously placing a stern, sassy hand on her hip. Though she also looked equally as confused as I was a few minutes ago.

"Scott forgot to tell you, me, and Iscariot that we were invited as honored guests to Mama Louise's banquet. As you probably know, we can't tell Mama Louise no without good reason," I explained.

"... I'll be ready in a minute," she said, before slamming the door with a worried and very shocked look on her face.

I waited a solid fifteen minutes before she came back out, only to run back in for another five minutes saying she forgot something. To be honest, she looked more well dressed than I think I've ever seen. She had replaced her usual suit with something you would see a celebrity wearing to their opening night. A modest red dress with no sleeves, long red gloves, and a black shawl.

"You look stunning… My Lady," I said with what was supposed to be a serious bow, but instead, it came out sounding sarcastic.

"You look good as well… Sir," she replied with a curtsy, before stifling a giggle. Did she change her attitude with that dress? It doesn't matter, we needed to leave! We quickly headed towards Iscariot's place.

"I wasn't expecting you to respond like that," I said, as we rushed out the door of the building, chuckling a bit before I realized I doomed myself.

"How exactly were you expecting me to act?" she asked with a fairly menacing scowl.

"Oh, thank goodness, I thought maybe you weren't the real Elysif there for a second. Like, maybe you were a changeling or something," I said jokingly, in an attempt to stop her bloodlust. God, if you exist, please keep me safe. She attempted to stifle another giggle.

When we finally arrived at Iscariot's home, we made a very common mistake. The family that lived in the apartment that also led to Iscariot's personal dimension was currently blocking the door. To be honest, I wasn't sure whether it was another dimension or not, but that's what I'm going to refer to it as. The family had smoked out their home with a chimney sweep gone wrong. Usually one would have to wait for the door to be closed to meet with Iscariot, but we couldn't wait, lest we face the wrath of Mama Louise

"Well, what now?" Elysif asked me as we stood around the corner.

"... I could try something with my knife?" I pondered while stroking the hairs of my chin, which I realized was starting to become a little too long for my taste.

"Great Idea! Let's just murder the innocent family so we don't miss a party. Genius plan, Agent,'' Elysif said with a hushed voice. The amount of snarky sarcasm she spewed with that statement, though, was enough to make me want to use the knife on her. But you know, pride and decorum, right?

"No… I'm going to use my knife to shut the door. We then run up and hopefully get the door opened to Iscariot's before they open it back up again," I said, correcting her assumption.

"That's... not a bad idea… But what happens if they open the door while we have the door opened to Iscariot's place?" Elysif half-heartedly agreed.

"I don't know, and I don't care. Iscariot probably has something to make sure that doesn't happen," I said, though I was not too sure about that last statement.

"Fair enough," Elysif said.

Pulling my knife from its sheath, I threw it at the door while increasing its speed and force with magic. The blade stuck into the wood and yanking my hand towards me as if the knife was attached to an invisible rope, I pulled the door shut. Once it was shut, Elysif and I bolted towards the door. I held the door closed as Elysif fumbled with the key, trying to get it in the hole. We could hear the family on the other side asking who closed the door. One of them was marching towards the door as I could hear their footsteps. "Hurry!" I whispered, while Elysif was putting the key in. Her only response was to give me a death glare. Just as the footsteps were at the door Elysif had turned the key allowing me to release my grip on the door and gave it a knock.

After a few short moments, we heard the sound of ten or twelve locks being opened. Iscariot was surprisingly overcautious, which made me wonder why he was that way. My train of thought was disturbed by the door finally swinging open, and there stood Iscariot, but far younger than his normal old self. Rather than looking like he had a foot and a half in the grave, he looked like he was around thirty, I even questioned whether it was Iscariot or not until he spoke. His muscles had expanded and his stature had grown tremendously. The wrinkly old man's skin had been stretched and smoothed out. Lastly, the hair on his body turned from an off-white grey into a lusciously smooth black.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in his usual scratchy pubescent voice.

"Scott forgot to invite you as an honored guest to a banquet hosted by Mama Louise, and we're here to get you," I said.

"I'll be ready in a moment, but why am I an honored guest? I don't remember doing anything for her," he asked precariously.

"She believes you helped Scott and me with something, and as such wants you as well. Either that, or Scott convinced her to let him bring some people so he wouldn't be alone with that woman," I replied with the sudden and fairly realistic revelation that Scott was probably the only one invited.

"What do you mean alone? Weren't you going with him?" Iscariot asked with a confused look. The gestured he made were far more expressive than his usual self, but I guess that's just a side effect of whatever this was.

"I didn't even know about it until today, so I assume no," I said.

"Alright, just let me shut the door," Iscariot said. He probably forgot about his room being in a time-altering dimension.

""No!"" Elysif and I both said to stop him.

"You can't shut the door or we will be here for hours, old man," Elysif stated, angrily. Thankfully he had stopped just before the door was shut.

"I understand, but who are you calling an old man?" Iscariot asked, offended by the mere mention of the word old.

""You,"" Elysif and I both replied in very monotone but stern voices.

"I have created a spell that temporarily reverts me back to my younger years. I'll have you know," he said as if he were a reality TV celebrity.

"I don't think you realize that the keyword there is temporarily, old man," Elysif said in her usual snarky attitude.

"You have a death wish or something, witch?" Iscariot said angrily.

"Would you rather me call you a eunuch?" she asked, now egging him on.

"Guys, can we go now? We'll all be dead if we don't please Mama Louise." The two looked at each other, then turned away. Iscariot toddled inside and began changing. Within ten minutes, we were finally leaving.


***


Scott Langston sat on his couch, the last bottle of rum he had left laid empty in his hand. With his other hand, he rubbed his forehead. "I need to pick up more on my way back from the banquet. Speaking of that, I should probably be on my way. Plus, they have booze there," he said to himself as he stood up and straightened his tie as best he could without a mirror, and opened the door to leave.

Standing on the other side of the door, about to knock on it, was a slender but muscular black man wearing a brown suit with some small rips and tears in various places. His face had not a single blemish, and he wore a pure, innocent, and friendly smile. The short dark hair contrasted with Scott's oily blonde ponytail. Scott knew exactly who this man was. In fact, the two knew more about each other than anyone else alive. However, the two hadn't seen each other in a while so it was a strange surprise.

"What are you doing here, Ten?" Scott asked with a surprised look.

"For the last time, it's Compton, not Ten. And how is that a way to greet an old friend?" Compton replied with an annoyed tone.

"It doesn't matter how I greet ya, Ten. You know I'm always happy to see you, but you still haven't answered my question," Scott replied, blowing off his remark.

"I wanted to see how you were doing. I just had to deal with a necromancer unblessing the rain in western Africa and summoning a small army of undead. There are several priests now fixing that, so I was on my way to report it to the Table," Compton grinned as he pridefully explained.

"What happened to your messenger bird?" Scott asked, wondering why he was going there in person.

"I lost it in a bet. Plus, telegrams are much better than the birds now," Compton said with a look that Scott knew well. He had no plans of telling the Table how he actually lost the bird. He was only telling him because he knew Scott could be trusted not to tell the Table.

"Oh," Scott replied.

"What happened to yours? I don't see the feathered-ass around," Compton asked curiously, as he peered inside the flat.

"The Table revoked my messenger bird privileges because I kept sending messages asking for a raise. Now I have to use magic items that my sorcerer has, send a letter, telegram, or go there myself," Scott said with a disappointed look in his eyes.

"Fair enough," Compton said, knowing that it was just him getting on the Head Consul's nerves.

"Now, tell me, why you're really here," Scott said, pushing past the fact that Compton had been lying, and he knew it.

Compton let out a sigh. "I heard you had a run-in with the supposed Sir Micheal, and I was worried. Very few members of the Table have met him, and even fewer have survived their meeting," Compton said with a glad expression.

"Yeah, I know. But I think that a lot of those encounters were made up by idiots to explain an issue that would otherwise make them accountable for it. Strangely, Sir Micheal actually saved my life, as well as my new partner's. What I want to know is, how you knew that I was attacked by him?"

"A few shadows that are on good terms with the Table saw it and reported it. But did you say, new partner? I never thought you would ever take on a partner after what happened to Silva," Compton said.

He gave him a look that said I don't want to talk about that. "That makes sense, and yes, I got a new partner. Although he lacks the knowledge we gained from years with the Table, he learns quickly. He even got Iscariot to give his weapon a magic enhancement and is coming close to mastering it," Scott said with a bit of pride.

"Yeah, how is the Dimensional Devil Sorcerer?"

"Iscariot... He's still as old and decrepit as you remember him, but he's staying proactive, at least. He claims that he's working on a way to reverse aging," Scott said.

"That's good to hear," Compton said with a caring look.

"Anyways, I have a banquet to get to, and I would rather not keep the host waiting. It has been good seeing you. Good day, Ten. If you want, we could get a drink at Monty's place after I get back," Scott said, before moving out of the doorway and closing the door behind him.

"For the last time, it's Compton. Though I would love a beer, I don't know how long I'll be able to stay today," Compton replied as Scott plodded down the stairs with nothing more than an apologetic wave over his shoulder.

Compton stood there for a moment in silence. With a sad chuckle, he ambled down the stairs and out the door, inconspicuously tailing after Scott. After a while of following, Compton stood in an alleyway two blocks behind Scott. He had been tailing him as effectively as he could, but was struggling to keep up with the drunk agent. Whether Scott was drunk or sober, he knew that if he got too close, Scott would notice him, and all that did was make it difficult.

"I don't understand why you're having me tail him instead of getting a shadow to do it," Compton said into the front of his pocket watch. The face of an old man on the inside of the watch shook its head.

"No shadow wanted to follow my son-in-law for fear of their own life. I figured you could do it since both he and I trust you," the old man said from within the watch.

"I understand, sir. But tell me, do you really think he could be working with this Sir Micheal? I thought we all agreed that those were just myths from the Head Consul's past trauma?" Compton asked, as he didn't understand the motive.

"No, Silva loved the Table, and Scott would never do anything that could bring harm to what she loved. He loved her too much. But the higher-ups believe it to be a possibility, so they wanted someone to keep an eye on him. I personally agree with you, but there's always the chance that the Consul's fears are realistic," the old man said earnestly.

"I see, but there is one thing that now has me concerned. Why did he keep his experience with this supposed Sir Micheal character a secret?" Compton thought out loud.

"I don't know, but keep following him and maybe we'll find out," the old man mumbled tiredly.

"Yes, sir," Compton said, before putting the watch in his vest pocket. It fell out of the pocket through a hole he forgot was there, and the watch shattered on the ground.

"Damn it, that was worth more than a year's wages. The director's gonna kill me," he said, as he picked up the pieces and put them into his other pocket.

When he stood back up and returned to the street, he had lost Scott. "Oh, bugger. Where'd he run off to now?" Compton said, taking off in a sprint toward where he thought Scott had gone. He should have asked him whose banquet he was going to.

Art by ChickenDrawsDogs

Lou Barrett

Scott Langston

Iscariot

Elysif Avian

Mama Louise

Compton Langston

Mordred Pendragon

Jack the Ripper

I had finally arrived at Mama Louise's with Elysif and Iscariot. Although all three of us, being a bit terrified, did everything to not let it show as Mama Louise greeted us, she knew. She even attempted to hit on Iscariot just to mess with him. Though Iscariot was pleased that someone was interested in him, it made Elysif and me rather uncomfortable, because we now both had the mental image of these two old psychopaths getting it on. Neither of us needed to imagine that!

Upon entering her home, we were surprised to see that there were only a few Succubi. There were a few Leprechauns, some goat-headed creatures, and a centaur. The rest were mainly supernatural creatures, other than a few humans besides us. Iscariot began speaking with several of the guests, as if he was born to be at these kinds of parties, while Elysif and I stayed in the corner near the refreshment tables.

It was not that we were entirely antisocial, it was that we both knew our limits. Elysif had once mentioned to me that she couldn't stand crowds due to the amount of information she had to take in all at once, and that it would give her migraines. I, on the other hand, just disliked being in situations in which I had to talk with people I barely knew, or people of importance, by myself. It made me anxious, thus, I stayed by Elysif in case someone who seemed important attempted to make conversation, and she stayed with me to make sure she had someone to give her a hand if need be. It worked well for both of us.

"What an interesting party!" Iscariot said ecstatically in his usual voice, joining us near the refreshments.

"Yes, it sure is. Although I have no idea who any of these people are, or even what some of them are," I said in a hushed voice. To anyone passing by, they would probably assume that I was spreading gossip.

"Don't worry, they all seem to be happy that we are here. They do need our aid at the moment, or so it would seem," he whispered back.

"Wait! what does that mean?" I asked, but instead, he turned to Elysif.

"And what about you, Eli? Are you enjoying yourself?" Iscariot asked with what seemed to me as genuine interest.

"I am not a child, you don't need to call me Eli, and no; I want to go home. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must attempt to stop this headache," she replied, before taking a silver vial from her pocket, removing some tablets, and downing them with some of the champagne set out at the refreshment table.

"Eli, what did you just take?" Both Iscariot and I asked with concerned looks.

"Just some pain relievers. Now, both of you need to stop worrying; I am a doctor," Elysif replied.

"Of course, a witch doctor, that is," Iscariot said, as if to cue her wrath, but before she could dismember him, we heard the clinging of a glass. Everyone turned to face Mama Louise, who was standing beside Scott who I guess had just arrived.

"Everyone, I thank you all for coming. Now that the final guest has arrived, we shall gather in the dining hall for a feast. We have accommodated everyone's preferences, and as such, if you have a complaint about someone else's food, you may take it up with me. But none of you want that, right?" Everyone seemed to chuckle at that comment. Was everyone here that afraid of Mama Louise? If so, then I guess we were all in the same boat.

We followed the gathering of creatures down a hall to the dining room. The table that sat inside was half the size of Scott's flat, and on it sat rows of candelabras, all lit to give a certain nuance. All we could do was admire the table, that was shining as if made of gold, and covered with a single glass plate. The room itself was a marvel, as several clear half-columns lined the walls, and hanging in between them were lanterns. The floor was marble, and the ceiling was a magnificent painting of the night sky. It awed me to no end, and I wasn't the only one. Elysif, Iscariot, and Scott were just as awed as I was, but it didn't last long as Mama Louise came up behind us and ushered us into the room.

We awkwardly shuffled around the table until we saw our name written on a place marker in front of our chair and sat down. Then, Mama Louise sat down at the end of the table, beside Scott. Poor guy. Across from him sat Iscariot, on the other side of Mama Louise. I then sat next to Scott, and Elysif next to me. Probably a good idea to keep Iscariot away from Elysif, seeing as how they were getting along just swimmingly earlier.

Once we had been seated, a gaggle of Succubi came and poured us each a drink. Each drink was different, and seemed to match the person. Iscariot received a sparkling white wine, Elysif received vodka steeped in black tea, Scott got sailors rum, and I got wine. I had never drunk wine, but they wouldn't have known that.

"So, Scott, what took you so long to get here?" I asked.

"I couldn't find my tie," Scott whispered, obviously lying.

"Bullshit! You were holding your tie when I left," I whispered back angrily.

"Fine! I took a nap," he said, finally accepting that lying wasn't going to work.

"You suck," I replied.

"Whatever, just keep an eye on Iscariot and Elysif. They don't always hold their liquor well," Scott said, gesturing at the two.

"Fine," I said, taking a sip of my wine. Damn, it was actually pretty good!

Scott took a sip of his own drink and looked at Mama Louise, "Mama Louise, what happened to the good stuff?" he asked, with an almost offended but hushed voice, as not to make a scene.

"My, my. Had I given you more expensive rum, you would have drank me into debt by morning," she replied with a grin, before taking a sip of her champagne.

"You know me too well. So, why did you really call me and my friends here?" Scott asked.

"Friends? I haven't heard you use that word in a long time," she said, with a grin still plastered over her face. She was definitely enjoying this.

"Don't look into it too much, just a slip of the tongue," Scott replied sheepishly.

"Fair enough. But what I called you here for was a favor that involves everyone here," she said, as her grin disappeared.

"If it's that big of a deal, shouldn't you be talking with one of my superiors? Also, what might this favor entail?" Scott asked inquisitively.

"I actually did go to your superiors about this issue, and it was said that you were the right one for the job," Mama Louise answered with a matter-of-fact tone.

"Oh, really! Those stuck-up bastards..." Scott said under his breath.

"What I need—no—what we need, is for you to take care of some Willowisps," Mama Louise said in a way that seemed more like begging than asking. Scott had never heard her ask anything like that.

"And why are these Willowisps such an issue? I didn't even know they still existed," Scott said curiously.

"Unlike other wisps that are born from souls not reaped by a cemetery guardian, Willowisps are created by a warlock or sorcerer for a specific purpose. We don't know what that purpose is, but Willowisps have started attacking many of the people that those in this room are supposed to protect," Mama Louise explained.

"The more you talk about it, the more it seems like a non-Scott problem," Scott said, dreading the thought of having such a job.

"That's where you're wrong. All of these people have sworn an oath of peace between each other and the Table. If one of the tribes that they protect were to have an uprising against them because of an attack and instate a new leader, then they could become violent towards us, or the Table," Mama Louise explained.

"Now I see why this is a 'me' problem..." Scott said with a sigh.

"Humanity has avoided a war with the supernatural for nearly two-hundred years, and this could be what ultimately starts another one. We want peace as much as you do, so please take care of it. Everyone here has agreed to help you with any matters that you have to step away from in order to do this," Mama Louise assured him.

"I'll do it," Scott answered after rubbing the back of his head.

"Thank you, Mr. Langston," Mama Louise said.

"On another note, do you know of the changeling that I have been searching for?" Scott asked.

"The one who killed Isabell?" Mama Louise asked.

"Yes. I want as many people as you can spare searching for it, and keeping the people safe from anything else. Do know that it is my duty to also be a third party for all of your squabbles, so I request that, since you will have no mediator, to please keep yourselves in check while I am away," Scott requested.

"I will do what I can; you have my word," she said, holding her glass out. Scott held out his glass and they tapped together in agreeance. The two then took a sip of their drinks, but Scott didn't stop, and finished his glass. Mama Louise, expecting this, pulled out a bottle of fine expensive rum from beside her, and poured him another glass.

"So that's why you were holding out on me?" Scott said with a curiously surprised look.

"No, I just thought I would tease you first. You may finish the bottle, but that is all I am allowing you to have of my quality stock," Mama Louise said with a joking smile.

"Well, I thank you. You are a wonderful host," Scott said, before sipping the drinks slowly this time.

Mama Louise took another sip of her champagne and looked around only to be stared at by Iscariot. "I must say, Louise, you are absolutely stunning, and your choice of decoration is magnificent," Iscariot said.

"You flatter me, Mr. Iscariot. But you are far too young for me. I was just messing with you when you arrived," she said.

"Well, you know I am actually much older than I look. I have been working on a formula to reverse aging, and I am temporarily back in my prime because of it," Iscariot explained eagerly.

"That might get you somewhere with me... if you could provide me with some of that formula," Mama Louise said with an interested look.

"But of course," Iscariot replied with a wink. Scott, Elysif, and I all avoided witnessing their flirtatious gazes for the rest of the night.


***


The next morning I awoke uncomfortably in my bed, with the worst hangover I have ever experienced. Half of my body was over the side of the bed, fully clothed, and the only thing keeping me from falling off the bed was my body's natural balance. Lazily rolling off the bed, I caught myself before slumping to the floor head first. After a loud thump, I sat up and raised my hand to comfort my aching head before trying to stand up.

"What happened?" I asked myself aloud, as I meandered my way to the door.

As I opened the door to my room, I looked back at my bed to gasp in horrid worry at the sight of Elysif asleep on the side opposite of where I had woken up and in a position that was far less than gracious. There was a slight moment of shock, but I knew that freaking out would wake her, and I did not want to poke that hornets' nest. Of course, we were both clothed, so we couldn't have done anything that might get us in trouble… I hoped. Stepping out the door, I saw Scott sitting on the couch, with his legs propped up on an end table that he had slid in front of him. In his hands was yesterday's paper, which I assumed he had finally gotten around to reading.

"And how are you this morning?" Scott asked with a shit-eating grin.

"Uh… what happened last night?" I asked with an appropriately worried look, passing off his question while simultaneously answering it.

"You're probably wondering why Elysif is in your bed? No, you two didn't do anything, but I did place her in your bed," Scott replied, as if proud of himself. As he said this, his eyes did not come up from the paper. It was oddly annoying. Normally, his demeanor and snarky jokes weren't an issue, but this irritated me.

"What? Why?" I asked with a bewildered face, but kept my voice hushed to keep from waking Elysif. He looked up from the paper, finally, only to look at me as if it were obvious.

"Consider it training. When she wakes up, she will probably attack you and ask questions later. I know from experience. If you can escape her, you win," Scott said, before returning to reading yesterday's paper.

"What do you mean by experience, and are you trying to get me killed?" I asked with an incredibly confused look, my voice still hushed.

"My wife pulled the same stunt on me and Elysif years ago, so I thought I would give it a try. And no, I am trying to keep you from getting killed in the future," Scott said as if this was a big teaching moment that I was supposed to accept as gospel.

"Your wife sounds like a dangerous person," I said in an attempt to explain in a roundabout way that he was crazy. However, I failed to account for how dense he was.

"She was considered the most lethal member of the Table for a while, so yes, she was very dangerous," he said in a matter-of-fact way, completely oblivious to my comments' true meaning. Though, he, like I, was fairly straight forward, so it made sense.

Hearing a floorboard creek behind me, Scott and I looked to see that Elysif was standing right behind. I jumped in surprise and quickly ran to the other side of Scott, but when I looked at her, she was rubbing her head in the same way I was. Hungover, confused, and a little pissed. With a dizzy meander, she made her way in front of Scott and while loudly yawning, kicked him in the chest as hard as she could without warning. Not expecting a kick out of the blue, Scott took the full force of her kick and fell back with the couch against the floor, creating a loud crashing sound as he smacked the back of his head against the wooden floor.

"You can't pull off the same stunts your wife did. I can forgive her, but you're an ass," Elysif said, before she stepped back and slunk down against the wall. Despite her violent nature, she looked like she wanted to go back to sleep, but didn't feel like moving any further. Elysif was definitely not a morning person. Hungover or otherwise.

"So what actually happened last night? My memory is very hazy," Elysif asked with a tired expression as she leaned against the wall. The way she sat indicated that she had no desire to move, but only because moving hurt.

Scott laid on the ground, rubbing the back of his head from where he hit it against the floor. Then got up and put the couch back how it was before. "You all got hammered despite me warning Lou to keep an eye on you and Iscariot. Because of that, I ended up carrying and guiding both of you back here. I didn't have your key, Elysif, and I wasn't going to search you, so I put you with Lou as a courtesy, and also as a joke," Scott explained with a bit of annoyance. It kind of sounded like he wanted some gratitude for not leaving us on the street, or worse, at Mama Louise's.

"Okay, what about Iscariot?" I asked. He hadn't said anything about our token senile old man, and I had yet to see him.

"He seduced Mama Louise and spent the night with her." Elysif and I shuddered at the thought of that as Scott said it. "Oh, and we have a mission," Scott added.

"What kind of mission? The Table doesn't usually ask you to go on missions. That would be a task for a wanderer like Uncle Compton," Elysif said, as neither she nor I heard him and Mama Louise talking about this. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe we just weren't paying attention? I don't know.

"This wasn't from the Table, but from Mama Louise herself. She wants us to destroy some Willowisps, and has offered her services to watch the city while we're gone," Scott explained.

"Well, I guess I'm going with you two," Elysif said adamantly and without hesitation. I knew she was just bored from doing nothing but making potions for the past few weeks, but I wasn't going to tell her no. The more people, the better.

"Huh?" Scott said aloud with a stupefied look.

"Willowisps are rare, and possibly very dangerous, so I'm coming along. You'll need someone to make sure you don't die, and I also want to see if there are any special ingredients that I can get off of them," Elysif stated.

"Okay, fair enough," Scott replied, as he couldn't think of a reason for her not to.

"What is a Willowisp exactly?" I asked, as I had no idea what that was. The folklore of a wisp was known to me, but I had never heard of a Willowisp.

"It is a creature of great power that few have records of, due to their rarity and their ability to kill. They are extremely hard to kill. So hard, in fact, that I can count on one hand how many people have seen them and lived," Scott said, showing a few fingers for emphasis.

"And we're going to kill one?" I asked uncomfortably, as the more he described this, the more it sounded like a suicide mission.

"No, we're gonna kill several of them. Now pack your bags," he said, ignoring my tone, before getting up and going to his room. Elysif and I both sat there in shock at his last sentence, before Elysif sighed and drowsily slumped further to the floor as if it were a soft bed.

"Okay, Lou, you slept in the same bed as me, which makes you my lover. So, as my lover, you need to carry me downstairs to my flat," Elysif said to me from the floor, as if her reasoning made any sense. If she was going to guilt me into carrying her downstairs to her place, then she needed a better excuse.

"No, it doesn't," I replied, before heading back to my room. As I started packing I didn't hear the door to the apartment open, so I assumed Elysif was still lying there. The longer the silence pressed on, the more guilty I felt. Though, I really didn't want to look back at her. I soon regretted feeling any form of guilt, as while I was busy, she chucked one of Scott's empty rum bottles at me. The bottom of the bottle struck the back of my head with just enough force that I fell sprawled out on the floor with a rather loud thump. Quickly, the room felt as if it were spinning, and I soon lost consciousness. In the end, I guess I failed Scott's "training."

Hearing this, Scott scuttled back out of his room to investigate the loud thump. He saw that Elysif had now stretched herself out on the short couch, holding her head with a dubiously amused but pained grin on her face. It was rather obvious that she had yet to recover from her hangover, as her clothes were torn and out of place, along with her hair. The most obvious of all was her attitude, as she was less energetic, snarky, and merciful. Continuing his tour, Scott peered into my room to see, without showing a single hint of shock at the sight of me passed out on the floor, with one of his empty rum bottles lying close by.

"Quite the sturdy bottle," Scott chuckled to himself before sauntering into my room, picking up the washbasin beside my bed, and dumping it all over my face. The shock caused me to shoot up in a frenzy, but all I could do was give him a surprised yet annoyed look.

"What the bloody hell was that for, you drunk?" I exclaimed.

He shot me a look as if I had just killed his dog… not that he had a dog. "First of all, that hurt my feelings. Second, you needed to wake-up. We have to catch the closest train out of here and you both still need to pack," Scott said.

"Well, tell that to Elysif," I replied, before spraying some of the water that was dripping into my mouth out in front of me.

"Elysif, why haven't you gone to your place and started packing yet?" Scott asked, like a father who wants to have a conversation about recent actions, but Elysif lazed about her spot on the couch.

"Ugh… I would, but I have the worst headache ever, and Lou refuses to carry me downstairs," Elysif said with a whiny groan.

"Tell that to the lump on the back of my head, you ass," I replied. I was definitely not helping her after that. Though our back-and-forth banter sounded more like two siblings having a petty squabble.

"I am surrounded by children," Scott said under his breath with a shake of his head and a heavy sigh. Ultimately, he decided that he didn't care to argue with anyone, and knew that I would backsass him a lot less. "Lou, carry her downstairs and get her inside her apartment."

"Can't I just toss her down the stairs? It would be much faster," I asked sarcastically, despite actually considering the option.

"... No," Scott finally answered after looking like he was considering it as an option as well.

"I forgot to mention that I also saved your life, so you should be more grateful," Elysif said to me from the couch. Now that did make me feel a bit guilty. That, and she wasn't going to give up on this till I did it. I could just tell.

"Fine," I said, before meandering over and picking her up, princess-style. Scott, seeing that my hands were full, gave me a hand and opened up the door to let me out of the apartment. The path down the stairs was difficult to handle, as I was still hungover and didn't feel like I was capable of walking straight. To top everything off, I was also holding a sixty-three-kilogram person in my arms. Thankfully, we made it downstairs without falling. Once I had left the apartment, Scott stood there shaking his head in mild disappointment.

"I swear I have been drinking a lot more since I started babysitting those two… I wonder how many bottles I can fit in my luggage," he said, before going back to his room and stuffing six bottles of liquor into his suitcase before he couldn't fit any more. "This is gonna be a long trip."

It took us nearly four hours to get fully packed, because Scott took a cat nap, the damn hypocrite, and Elysif was hungover for another two hours before she could actually pack. I ended up vomiting out the window and ruining a stray cat's day while waiting for Scott and Elysif. Eventually, we were able to leave the apartments and run to the train station… only to learn that we had missed the train that we were supposed to be on by nearly twenty minutes.

Thankfully, we found another train that would be leaving in an hour, so we wandered around, looking at different shops, to pass the time. Had this been my modern day, we would have easily been mistaken for tourists. From the shops, Scott bought a fancy case of cigars that were rather expensive. and Elysif bought several pounds worth of bread and pastries. Sadly, a passerby knocked into her and much of her pastries fell on the ground, where it quickly became a feast for the birds.

We eventually calmed the already downtrodden Elysif by buying her some more pastries to replace the ones she lost. She did attempt to kill a few of the birds feasting upon her confectionaries before then, but thankfully, she only scared them off for a time. I myself purchased a hat similar to that of a newsboy's cap, a patch set to mend the holes in my coat, and a book to read on the train. By the time we had finished shopping, the train arrived with a bustling crowd and ringing bells. We almost missed it like the last one, but we boarded safely and were finally able to head out on our mission.

The swaying of the train was sickening, not to me or Elysif, but to Scott. Elysif and I had no problem adapting to the rocking of the train. Scott, on the other hand, had staggered to the end of the train and violently threw up all over the track behind us. It was not a pretty sight. To make matters worse, he kept attempting to drink from his flask, only to throw it up again. Couldn't he wait just a while before getting drunk again? It didn't make any sense to me, but there was no stopping him. Despite the fact that it was making him puke more, Elysif outright refused to say anything to him about his habit for reasons beyond me.

Once his spewing session ended, he returned to the room we were staying in on the train and plopped himself on a hard cushioned wooden seat, where he got as comfortable as he could. While he had been emptying his innards, I had asked Elysif where we were going. but she had no idea either. She assumed we were heading directly for wherever the mission was supposed to take place, thus we both waited to ask Scott once he returned.

"Scott, where exactly are we going? You haven't told us much," I asked curiously.

He looked up at the two of us before sighing. "We are heading to the Table headquarters in Warwick for information on these Willowisps. Then we head for Haringey forest. They seem to be coming from there," Scott explained between queasy smothered burps from his motion sickness.

"We're going to Warwick Castle? I'm guessing Silva's dad would want to speak to you when you arrive?" Elysif asked with a suspicious frown.

"Hence the cigars. They're his favorite brand, and a gift usually quells any chastising he was planning to give me," Scott said with a sickly cough, but a smug look that didn't quite match it.

"Wait, the Table headquarters is at Warwick Castle?" I asked the two of them with a confused look. I had been to the castle as a kid during a class trip, but I never knew it was secretly a base for the Table.

"In it, no. It's underneath it. The historic castle is a front for the Table, which resides in the castle basement," Elysif replied as she realized that no one had mentioned this to me before. This new information made me excited to actually see what the Table was like. Hopefully better than Scott's building.

Our train ride continued through the night and into midmorning, before we arrived in Warwick. Scott got practically no rest, and threw up a few more times before we made it. We even had to stabilize him getting off the train like an old man, and he didn't return somewhat back to normal until he had rested on one of the nearby benches for a while. The town of Warwick was slightly larger than I had remembered, and the homes were all made of plaster and wood in the cottage style. The road was made of small cobblestones, and the scenery was beautiful, with a river and many vibrant coloured plants. In the background, we could see the top of Warwick Castle, above the trees, with its magnificent stone towers.

As we walked towards the castle, we could see the soft morning glow illuminating the soft grey stones of Warwick castle. Ivy hung as if it were ornamental fabric draped over the side of the large castle walls. Towers adorned the corners of the castle like a crown, yet the jewel on this crown was the magnificent stone entrance, tall, covered in windows, and defensively effective.

Sadly, rather than going to the front door, Scott and Elysif led me to a gated garden entrance on the side of the castle, where two guards stood. They were dressed like butlers for a Lord or Lady, but each held a Halbert with a runic symbol on the blade, and partially hidden underneath their coats was a strange chainmail. Initially, they refused to let us in, but after showing the guards our Table badges, they didn't have any more complaints. One of the guards led us through the garden to the stone wall that made up one side of the castle. Pointing the tip of his halbert at the wall, the guard slowly pushed it into one of the many cracks in the stone. With a slight bit of concentration, he forced magic into the halbert. The glow of the halbert traversed from the crack in the stone to form a rectangle, and the wall swung open like a normal door to my amazement, but the others were less than surprised. It's understandable since they had seen it before, but for me, it was fantastic.

Going inside, I was surprised that the hallway beyond the door was lit with lanterns, rather than something magical. However, the walls and ceiling seemed to reflect the light of the lanterns, causing the hall to glow a relaxing gold. At the end of the hallway, it opened up to a massive circular room that had several hallways connected to it. Unlike the hallway, the room was a bright blue, with stones sticking out of the walls, glowing the same blue hue. A few people stood in the room, discussing who knows what. One of them was an older man who, upon seeing us, strode over to greet us with a smile. Instead of a normal handshake, he happily gave Scott a hug and patted him on the back a few times.

"How have you been, Scott? I see that you brought friends," the older man said with a comforting smile. The man was dressed in a fine, hand-tailored, black suit, with a pocket watch chain hanging from his waist pocket. Although he wasn't clean-shaven, his beard and mustache were kept in a way that reminded me of a sinister villain old-man-style character, but his open smile broke that entire description.

Scott was still a little nauseous from the train, and looked as if the hug was going to make him spill whatever might be left in his stomach. That said, he didn't mind it. "Please let go, you know how I am after train rides," Scott requested queasily.

"Oh, sorry, my boy," the old man said, letting him go. "So what brings you three here?" He asked.

"We need some information on Willowisps. I figured that the Table would have records of such a beast." Scott said.

"Is one in London? If so, you should be keeping it from attacking civilians," the old man said with a worried look.

"No, it's not in London. Mama Louise is watching London while we take care of a few Willowisps in Haringey. They are currently moving towards London. Though, I thought you were the one who told Mama Louise to bother me about this?" Scott replied with a confused and tired look.

"I did hear something about Mama Lousie requesting aid, but that would have gone right to the Head Consul, and she hasn't said anything to me about it. Though, what of the other clans? Are they staying peaceful back in London?" the old man asked with a hushed voice, as if the underbelly of London wasn't their business.

"Yes, they had a meeting and all agreed that it was necessary for their own peace that these Willowisps be destroyed," Scott replied.

"I see. Go speak with Arbus or Mary, but they are going through a rough patch, so don't mention the other to whomever you see. Oh, and before you do, the Consul and Head Consul have wanted to see you and your new recruit for an official introduction," the old man said in a tone that sounded more like a command than a request.

"Will do," Scott agreed with a defeated sigh. It was easy to tell that he had no desire to see the Head Consul or the Consul.

"Speaking of which, I have yet to meet your new recruit," the old man said to Scott, before looking at me. "I am one of the Table's Directors, Aaron Langston," the old man said to me, extending a hand out formally.

I shook his hand with as tight a grip as I could muster without making it awkward. "Lou Barrett, sir. It is good to meet you," I said, introducing myself as well.

"You seem like a good man. You'll fit in well here," Director Aaron said, letting go of my hand.

"And Elysif, how have you been?" he asked cheerfully, turning and giving Elysif a hug with a hearty laugh, and picking her up off the ground while doing it.

"I have been good, but I see old age hasn't weakened you in the slightest," she said with a smile.

"Of course it hasn't," Director Aaron replied, before turning to face us and setting Elysif down, releasing her from the hug with a friendly smile. "Well, I have some business to attend to, but I shall see you later," he said with a slight bow of his head.

We all nodded our heads in return. "Oh, I almost forgot. I brought your favorite," Scott said, pulling out the box of cigars and handing it out to him.

"That's my favorite son-in-law!" he said, taking the box gleefully.

"... I'm your only son-in-law," Scott corrected.

"I know. That's why you're my favorite," he said without missing a beat, and sauntered off. The three of us waited awkwardly for a moment until the Director had left. Scott then began leading us down one of the hallways, marked with the crest of a dragon and a feather pen.

"So who are the Consuls that we are going to meet?" I asked, as Elysif and I followed him down the hall. The walls of the hall were a mix of perfectly flat surfaces painted white, and large stone bricks that were probably part of the castle's original cellar walls. The only source of light came from decorative oil lanterns hanging on the walls, some of which hadn't all been lit, leaving patches of unlit hallway.

Scott continued to lead us down the hall without looking back, but explained who the Consul was, "The Head Consul is the leader of the Table, and the Consul is their second in command. Every member of the Table must meet the Consul and Head Consul so that they might be known personally by them."

"Wait, the head of the entire Table wants to meet with us?" I asked, dumbfounded. It would be the same as a salesman meeting the CEO of the large company that they work for.

"Did you not hear him, or are you too stupid to understand?" Elysif asked rudely.

"I heard him, and I understand. But aren't they too important to be meeting with us?" I wondered out loud, refusing to acknowledge Elysif's snark.

"No, they want to meet with us because it's necessary. Every agent is introduced to them as a sign of respect for joining. You have yet to meet them as a new agent because I didn't want to ride the train if I could help it, and thus, it is my fault. I am probably going to get chewed out for this," Scott said, before taking a few swigs from his flask. "Plus, you could call me lazy or a problem child, but I keep forgetting to send in the written reports, so usually, I come in person once or twice a year," he continued to explain as if he didn't care.

"I see," I said as we arrived at the end of the hall. The same crest with a dragon and pen as the one above the entrance to the hallway was placed near the ceiling of the dead end. There were rooms around us, but the hallway led nowhere. The room closest to the dead end was a storage closet, but for some reason both Elysif and Scott were staring at the end of the hallway.

Raising his hand, Scott touched the wall as if ceremonially, "In the name of Arthur Pendragon, I, a knight of the table, command you to open." As he finished speaking, the wall slid to the side to reveal a secret room.

Inside, there was a room smaller than I expected, as it was roughly ten meters long and fifteen meters wide. It was impossible to tell what colour the walls were, because they were lined with bookshelves. And, on opposite sides of the room, were a pair of desks. The one to the left side was as clean as it could be, with various papers neatly stacked and placed, and a young man leaning over it to examine some of the documents without acknowledging us entering the room.

Although he looked young, he had a lonely look on his face that made him seem rather old and tired. His short black hair conflicted with his looks, and it didn't help that he wore a robe similar to Iscariot's. However, this man's robe was covered in Nordic and Greek symbols woven together for some kind of magic formula, unlike Isariot's. Because of the Arthurian legends surrounding this place, I wondered if he was a descendant or from a line of apprentices of Merlin or one of the knights.

Now, the desk on the right was horrid by comparison, as books and papers covered in dust were stacked nearly to the ceiling. Several books had been thrown about in a pile beside the desk along with a half-eaten loaf of bread that rested on top. It was hard for me to even identify the desk itself.

"Langston! How are you?" the young man who had been standing over the desk on the left asked, after finally realizing that we were here. Realizing that we had probably been here for a lot longer than we should have been, he quickly came over and shook Scott's hand.

"I am good, Consul; And how are things with you?" Scott replied with his usual gruff voice.

"You know I can't get the Head Consul off my ass. Otherwise, peachy," the man said, before turning to Elysif. "And I see you brought this fine beauty. I don't believe we have met, may I enquire about your name, miss?" he asked in a seductive tone.

"Elysif, and we have met. Several times, in fact. I believe you attempted to grope me once before, and the Head Consul broke your hand," Elysif replied bluntly, as she seemed to be very annoyed.

The man took a step back with his mouth agape in unbelievable shock. "I would never do such a thing," he said in disbelief, before a book flew across the room and hit him in the back of the head. "What was that for?"

"You know why," A young woman said angrily, stepping out from behind the pile of books on the disheveled desk. She looked like she had just woken up, and unlike the man who looked to be in his late twenties, she didn't look much older than me. She had long golden hair tied in a single braid, and wore a loose worn white dress shirt that was tucked into some loose dark-brown pants barely held up by a belt. Her attire looked like it could be from the fourteen-hundreds, but there was no way that was the case. Excluding her attire, she was more toned than anyone in the room except for Scott.

"It's good to see you again, Head Consul," Scott said to the young woman with the same stride and tone as one who is greeting an annoying in-law. She didn't seem to notice it, though.

"I apologize for his rudeness. Even after the thirteen hundred years that I've known him, he never learned the decency to act appropriately around women. My name is Mordred Pendragon, daughter of Arthur Pendragon, as well as Head Consul. And that fool of a Consul is Merlin," the young woman said, introducing herself unceremoniously.

"I do apologize for coming without sending word first," Scott said, respectfully this time.

"You don't have to be so polite with us, Scott. This isn't a meeting among the elite. Plus, I know you're only acting as if you were behaved because you thought that I might not chew you out for not bringing us the past two months' worth of reports," she replied, callously pointing out his act with a raised brow and an annoyed scowl.

"Is that all that you wished to speak with us about, Mordred?" Scott asked, reverting back to his usual crass tone. He seemed to have passed it off as a joke. Strangely, Mordred just let out a sigh of surrender without even attempting to properly scold him.

"We actually only wished to meet your new apprentice, since you haven't done so already. However, if you could give us a report on what has been happening the past two months, that would be great." It was obvious that Mordred was not happy for his lack of communication, but was gonna take whatever she could get.

"This is Lou Barrett, he is from the future, and I shall give you an oral report in a moment," Scott said, ignoring her tone.

"Nice to meet you," I said, extending my hand respectfully. Both of them looked at me with a wary look for a moment, before turning to Scott.

"Are you joking, Scott? You told us the same thing when you visited us last time, and we told you that it wasn't possible," Merlin asked curiously. He seemed to be more intrigued than in disbelief.

"No, I am not. Even Iscariot assured me that he is, in fact, from the future," Scott stated with a shrug.

"I see, and how is Iscariot doing?" Merlin asked, changing the subject as if he had lost interest.

"He is doing great, he was recently able to seduce Mama Louise," Scott said, but it was hard to tell if he was gloating or if he was disgusted. It seemed that Merlin's quick change of conversation had hooked him into a much less important talk.

"Please don't gloat about that. That woman is a demon. I feel bad for him, rather than enthusiastic," Merlin said in a hushed voice. Though, we could all hear him.

"Ugh, these two are such a pain," Mordred said to Elysif with a sigh.

"I understand, but men are men. All we can do is hope we find a well-mannered one," Elysif replied.

"Not me, I've been single for most of my thirteen hundred years, and it's been great. Though, how have you been, Elysif?"

"It has been good. I'm doing work on the side for Dolfly as always, I've had several patients within the past few months, and my 'other venture' has been steady. Though I really could use a break." Elysif said with an exhaustively forced smile.

"I see. The Table has been keeping me busy and my budget has been less than ideal."

"That's understandable, but shouldn't you be talking to Lou? He is the one you wanted to see," Elysif asked, as I was awkwardly standing right there. She then left our little circle to join Scott and Merlin's.

"Ah, yes, sorry about that. So you're from the future? What is it like?" Mordred asked with an unconvinced tone, before finally shaking my hand.

"Technology and medicine have vastly improved, and half of the world wants to kill each other," I answered honestly. I didn't have much else to say. Was I even allowed to tell them about certain things? What was safe to talk about and what wasn't? Time travel really is confusing when there isn't a guide or set of rules.

"Well, at least world politics haven't changed," she said with a humoured chuckle. She seemed to be a lot more laid back than I figured a honor-bound knight of the Round table would be. Perhaps, it was the age that made her like this? No. I can't exactly believe her statement without questioning it, can I? Although… I am a time traveler, so it would be proper to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"True, but are you really the same Mordred from the story of King Arthur and Excalibur?" I asked. She leaned back against her unorganized desk with a yawn before answering.

"Yes, I am," she said with a sigh, as if she were tired of people asking her that. I could understand if she was. That said, there was something else that didn't make sense.

"But I thought Mordred was a traitor to Arthur and… a man?" I asked, a bit confused. She looked as if she were about to try laughing the question off, but she stopped herself before answering.

"A common misconception. One of the many dramatic additions to my father's tale was my betrayal. Though, the part about me being a man is true in a sense. I had been pretending to be a man through most of my time as a knight of the Round Table," she said with an annoyed look. She was most definitely tired of making that correction.

"That makes sense, but how are you alive today?" I asked, as I was unable to wrap my head around it.

"Merlin is a great wizard, and one of the few remaining Elder Ones. As such, we have been staying youthful until we can complete our mission. In simple terms, you could say that Merlin is immortal to a degree, and he is sharing that power with me," Mordred explained.

"And what mission is that?" I asked, as I had no clue what the Table's work statement was at all. I only joined them because of Scott's threats and my lack of options. It would really suck if I found out now that I was working for the baddies.

"The same mission my father had; To create peace between the humans and the creatures that live in our shadows," Mordred stated with a proud, knightly demeanor. This highly contrasted her previous mellow tone and body language.

I stood there a moment, before replying. Though, I thought that they had already achieved that goal. I mean, humans and the supernatural seem to get along as they are. "That seems like an excellent goal. And excuse my rudeness, but have you not already done that?"

She strutted over to her dirty desk, and pulled a book out of the pile, the one with the loaf of bread on it. She opened it up and flipped through several pages, before handing it to me. On the page she had it opened was a painting of several knights fighting against different monsters, and on the left corner were several inhuman creatures shaking hands or whatever they had with a few knights. "This painting is from my father's time. We haven't changed in over thirteen hundred years. We'll fight creatures who refuse to make peace, while making peace with others who want our help. As such, we have yet to even scratch the surface of our mission. We may have spread far and wide, but we are spread thin," Mordred said, as her face turned somber, and the proud, knightly demeanor that had begun to show, vanished.

"I guess you're right. Until humans and the supernatural can make peace and live together as one, we can't truly have peace," I replied, as I could see where she was going with this.

"We want that as well, but many creatures of the night want to stay hidden from human knowledge. They would rather pretend to be human than risk being killed by them as a monster, which is a safer option. Plus, many creatures agree that if the humans suddenly knew of their existence on a global scale, it could risk starting a war. We agree with there being the threat of war over this, so we do what we can," she said, taking the book from my hand and throwing it back onto the pile.

"Then, how will you complete your mission?" I asked.

"We don't know yet. Merlin thinks there might be a way, but it will take some time. And despite how he acts, he is a certifiable genius. He just has some… quirks," Mordred said, right before we both looked over at Merlin.

"I see," I said, as I saw him attempting to juggle books for no reason. Of course, right as I looked at him, he messed up and dropped two of the books on the ground. The other fell on Scott's head, to our amusement. I couldn't help but chuckle, but neither could Mordred. Once we had stopped chuckling, Scott stepped away from Elysif and Merlin who were now discussing something related to magic.

"So, about that report?" Mordred asked Scott as he joined our circle. She seemed a bit more impatient with him than others. I wonder why. Though that is none of my business, so I won't ask.

"Crap, I had hoped that you had forgotten about that," he replied. Mordred, in reply, crossed her arms like a mother who was about to scold her child for misbehaving. He quickly gave in, as he knew that look well.

"Okay, okay. Not much happened in the past two months. Other than our emergency quest from Mama Louise, we have only had a few minor skirmishes. Nothing new to say on our Changeling friend, and there are no Changeling groups in London I can ask about its whereabouts. Even if I did have one to talk to, they aren't exactly the most cooperative bunch," he explained with an apologetic tone.

"I also heard that you saw Sir Micheal,,,?" Mordred said, inquisitively.

"Well, yes, but actually, no. I saw a masked man who looked like he could have been Sir Micheal. I don't know if it was THE Sir Micheal, but I do know that he saved both mine and Lou's lives by chasing after that Changeling the night we were attacked. I did send a report about the incident, so that shouldn't be an issue," Scott said.

"You misunderstand. We were happy that you managed to send a report in on time, but the report we received had no mention of this masked man or Sir Micheal. Why is that?" Mordred asked, as if this was an interrogation from a parent that found out their child had committed a crime.

"To be honest, Mordred, I don't entirely believe that Sir Micheal is still alive, nor do I believe that there is a secret organization related to him that works against the Table in secret. If there was more information, which I don't know about, then I'd probably believe such ideas," Scott said honestly.

"You don't believe it because we haven't told you everything, is that right?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow. She seemed to be getting a bit pissed off, to me, but Scott was either too dense to notice, or lacking any fear.

"I don't believe it because I have yet to see tangible proof," Scott answered sternly.

"I cannot show you any proof, but I can tell you information that only me and Merlin have known about him, since we were there at the Round Table when he was one of us," Mordred said with a bit of a forgiving and defeated sigh.

"Why are you going to tell me if you have yet to tell anyone else?" Scott asked curiously, with a bit of doubt on his tongue.

"Because we want him dead—no—I want him dead, after what he did to me and my father. If telling you will make you believe, then so be it. At the very least, you'll understand why I want him dead, and why I see him as such a threat," she said, clenching her fists in a fit of rage that she was cleverly masking from her tone.

I kept my mouth shut as they spoke. With every word they said, I was feeling more and more like a third wheel. Merlin and Elysif were talking about magic I didn't understand on the opposite side of the room, while Mordred and Scott were discussing an Arthurian legend. I, on the other hand, was stuck trying to listen to both conversations. Sadly, Merlin and Elysif's conversation consisted of magical terminology that I couldn't understand. With this being the case, I just stood quietly and listened to Mordred and Scott.

"During the time of King Arthur, a masked man was found in a small village that had been attacked by monsters. He had saved almost all the villagers by fighting off over three hundred creatures before my father and his knights could arrive," Mordred said. She said it as if she was there, reminiscing in the memory.

"I had thought that Sir Micheal was a traveling monster hunter, who trained with the Elder ones and rulers of Fae, Oberon and Titania. Arthur allowed him to join the Round Table after he beat him in combat. But wasn't he a sorcerer or something similar?" Scott asked.

"No, the part about him being a wandering monster hunter was true. The legends that you know are correct, but few know of what happened before that. As for whether he was a sorcerer or not, well, he had abilities similar to an Elder One, though he mainly fought with a blade. Specifically, the one forged for him by the Lady of the Lake," Mordred answered.

"Then he must have been quite something," Scott replied.

"He was. King Arthur took him to Camelot, and knighted him soon after. He was then sent out to battle very quickly, doing any manner of mission alongside my father. As part of his position and as a thank you from Arthur, the Lady of the Lake forged a sword for him that was named Claidheamh," Mordred elaborated.

"And can Claidheamh do anything special? I don't know that much about this kind of thing," I asked, finally speaking up, as I was starting to grow bored o a third wheel.

"It is a sword capable of summoning armor that protects the wearer from magical attacks, and the blade itself could destroy, as well as absorb, magic to be released later," Mordred explained as if she had memorized it.

"So it's an anime protagonist's blade?" I replied with my knowledge of the future, forgetting that no one else in this time period would get the joke. Both Scott and Mordred looked at me with blank stares.

"I don't know what that is," Mordred said, confused.

"Neither do I. Maybe it's a reference to something in the future?" Scott agreed with a shake of his head.

"Anyways, back to my story. After becoming a Knight of the round table, all of the Knights under my father's command left to fight against a horde of Saxons. However, after a swift victory, my father and a few others, including Merlin and Sir Micheal, left to discuss the enemy's surrender. After the Saxons had surrendered, Sir Micheal stabbed my father through the back, and disappeared before Merlin and the other knight with them could capture him. He had gained King Arthur's trust, as well as just about every knight in Camelot, before assassinating him. The Fae king then took my father after he was slain, but no one knows where they are now," she finished. Merlin, noticing our conversation, ambled over to us.

"There was not a single footprint near Arthur's body, except the ones from before, and I couldn't track him with magic. It was as if he disappeared into thin air," Merlin said in a somber tone, as if regretful of the whole situation.

"What else do you know about him? Because most people at the Table only know a little of what you said," Scott asked.

"We know that he is practically immortal, as he keeps showing up every so often to attack us before disappearing again without a trace," Merlin replied.

"Why do you think he's immortal?" I asked.

"Because the mask he was wearing is cursed so that no living person can remove it, but the mask is also eating him alive. I only know that because he asked me if I could examine it while he was a knight. Somehow, he was repairing himself just as fast as the mask was destroying him," Merlin spouted. There was obviously a bit of annoyance in his voice.

"Then how does he eat?" Elysif interjected.

"The mask could conform to its owner's needs, and would open up so that he could eat. It did come with the benefit of translating everything he heard or said. Of course, he also used it to give himself the most disturbing smile in order to scare his opponents. The only things it couldn't do were reveal his face, or be removed," Mordred said.

"Sounds like that mask is all negatives. What was he like before he betrayed you?" I asked.

Mordred and Merlin looked at each other, then looked at the three of us. "You could say he was a kind person who I wish I had gotten to know better..." Merlin answered.

"I could say the same, he was kind, and I was almost betrothed to him. I wouldn't have been unhappy with it had it happened, but I was not ready for a married life, so I had my father rescind the betrothal. To my surprise at the time, Sir Micheal was mature about it, and easily accepted that I didn't want to marry him," she said, blushing a little. "But now I see that he didn't wish to marry me because he was planning to kill my father the whole time," she said, angrily, as she clenched her fist. Everyone in the room became awkwardly silent. Not because they didn't know what to say, but rather, because they didn't want to piss off Mordred any further.

"I can see that that is a touchy subject. I won't press on," I said as I nervously rubbed my hands back and forth.

"Well, at any rate, we have discussed all we needed to, so please continue on with what you were originally intending to do," Merlin said, shooing us out.

"Alright. Thank you for seeing us, Consul, Head Consul," Scott said with a bow of his head, before walking towards the door. Elysif and I followed suit. We got past the door, and it automatically shut behind us, only showing the emblem of the dragon and the feather pen on the bare wall, which now made a lot of sense. It literally meant Pendragon.

Going back down the hallway and into the large circular room, Scott turned to his right, leading us into the next hallway. A few meters in, Scott opened a door on the left. Inside was a large wall of books. Unlike Mordred's mess of a desk, these books were put in a condensed and controlled space of carefully structured bookshelves. The books lining the shelves lacked a single speck of dust on them, and the only books that weren't on shelves were sitting on a small table near the door. The room itself was like a maze of these bookshelves. There was a bookshelf in front of us that connected to the wall on the right, with only a small gap on the left side between the shelf and the wall. Lining both walls to the sides were even more bookshelves. Walking to the left, we curved around the shelf, to see that there was another bookshelf running from the left wall outward with a small gap on the opposite side.

Continuing through this zig-zagged path, we arrived at an open space where a young woman sat at a desk with her head buried in a book. A teapot sat beside her on the desk, steam rising from the spout, with a single cup of equally steaming tea sitting on the other side of her desk. She didn't seem to notice us at all as we piled in, similar to Merlin when we entered Mordred and his office. Strangely, she was motionless. It was as if she was a statue rather than a person.

"Mary? Are you dead?" Scott asked, knowing that was not the case. The woman let out a pained sigh—a common reaction to Scott, apparently—before lowering the book from her face to reveal her black hair, death-like expression, and tired demeanor. She didn't look much older than thirteen or fourteen, but she had bags under her red eyes like she hadn't slept in years.

"Of course I'm dead; I'm a vampire. Now, what do you want, Scott?" Mary asked with an annoyed look that seemed to cause her pain by doing so.

"We need to know how to kill a Willowisp. If you don't happen to know anything, then we could always ask your husband," Scott said, cutting straight to the point. Though, his last comment was obviously to get under her skin. He could feign ignorance easily if she got mad, but it was still harsh. Mary gave him a hateful glare, but it was hard to tell what she was thinking. Her face wasn't the most expressive, but she looked like she was physically trying to be.

"I think I have something on Willowisps somewhere in here. Though, you should know that that man is more like my ex-husband now," Mary said without any sign of remorse. Setting her book on her desk, Mary stood up with a blank face, as she tried to think about where the documents would be. For some reason, I felt as if there was a loading symbol spinning around in her head for a second.

"Oh, really?" Scott said, pretending to be surprised. His reply snapped her out of her mental daze, causing her to start re-taking in the room.

"Yes," she said, rolling her eyes, before realizing that Elysif and I were standing beside Scott. "And who are these two, Scott?" she asked with a somewhat forced look of intrigue.

"This is Elysif, You should have already met her, though I may be wrong about that," he said, gesturing at her. "And this is Lou, my apprentice."

"Well, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said with a nod, before shuffling over to the bookshelf on her right. Waving her hand over a few of the books, she skimmed up, down, and between shelves, before removing a book. "Here it is!" Mary exclaimed in a monotone voice.

"What is it?" I asked.

"A book of Fae and Fae types based on Table field studies over the past five hundred years," she said, flipping through it, before stopping on a page somewhere towards the end. "Here we are."

"Alright, what does it say?" Scott asked, before pulling out his flask and taking a swig. She gave him a look of disdain, but decided not to say anything.

"Nothing of use. Those, Knuckle dragging, curs, I bite my thumb at the, elephant faced, asshat, pieces of shit," she shouted obscenities from what was at least a few different generations. Scott just stood there, but Elysif and I were a bit weirded out by the strange amalgamation of words she just spewed.

""What do you mean by nothing of use?!?!"" Elysif and I asked. Scott just shrugged as if he expected there to be nothing.

"I mean that there is nothing useful. They barely included the creature's weakness. Just what kind of field agent doesn't write down proper details?" she said, showing us the page.

On one page was a horrifying sketch of a creature that looked like it came from a creepypasta. It had the skull of an elk, whose eyes glowed yellow, for a face. Both its arms and legs were as thin as bones, but as black as night. The body looked as if it were starving, because all of its ribs were showing, but it was covered in jet black latex-like skin, all except for its skull head. To finish off the creepy aesthetic, it had hair down to its waist that resemble the branches of a weeping willow.

The page beside it read as follows:

"Year 1712, June 8th. Day 3 of our search for an unknown creature:

We have come across a creature that does not die from silver for reasons we cannot explain. However, we have found that it can be harmed with iron. We believe it to be of Fae origins, and despite its physically lacking body structure, it is quite strong. The beast can blend into the forest-scape with ease during the night, making it hard to track. We will continue to observe it for more information.

Day 12:

The creature has attacked a child in the woods and attempted to eat it with a mass of tentacle-like appendages that hide under its skull. The five Agents with me, prevented the child's death, but the beast killed three of them before fleeing into the dense woods.

Day 14:

It attacked us in the night as if it was hunting us, waiting to strike like a common predator. It killed the other two Agents. I was able to escape when it stopped to count the sugar and salt that had spilled from our ration bag during the fight. Its speed is immeasurable, and its strength is enough to rip a man in half. If you see one of these creatures, DO NOT FIGHT IT, RUN, and pray that it didn't see you. I have dubbed this being the Willowisp after its long Willow branch-like hair, and the Fae known as Wisps, for its ability to hide.

~Agent Mora Seld, Rank Five Star."

"Jesus Christ!" Elysif exclaimed in shock. She and I must have had the same thought about this job being too much for us.

"Welp, now we know what we are gonna be fighting," Scott said casually. He sounded as if he were completely unafraid of such a beast.

"We are not fighting that thing," I said, trying to deter him from this mission.

"You're right, we aren't. We're fighting several of those things," Scott said with a heinous grin.

Scott swiftly and yet ungracefully strutted off back through the maze of bookshelves with only a wave of his hand to say goodbye back at Mary, even though she couldn't see it. "Thank you for your help, Mary. I'll see about getting you some fresh blood when I'm done with this job," he said. Elysif and I quickly followed behind him through the maze of books.

"That's unnecessary, since I don't need human blood," Mary yelled back so that Scott could hear her, as she placed the book back on the shelf where she had pulled it from.

"I know. Though I also know that you like it better," Scott yelled back, unprofessionally, from the entrance to the maze, before pushing open the door and holding it open for us. Once we had gone through the door and Scott had let it shut, I turned to him.

"What are you thinking? We are going to get ourselves killed," I practically yelled at him, with fear in my eyes and feeling pretty rational for it. Elysif nodded in agreement as she too thought this was a suicide mission. Scott cocked his head to the side, then looked down at the ground, before he started chuckling.

"Were either of you paying attention?'' he asked with a humoured smile. We both looked at him like he was going insane. before he spoke again. "She just told us the Willowisps' weakness," Scott said in response to our expressions. Despite this, we both continued to look at him like he was insane.

He couldn't help but sigh at our lack of attention, "Salt and sugar have been used to distract Fae for centuries. Despite Willowisps being made of humans and animals, they are still Fae, and have the same instinct to count those grainy chunks no matter how much peril they're in. It's why no one has ever seen a Fae outside of the British isles. If they saw the beach, then they would probably spend an eternity counting every last grain of sand. Well, with the exception of the Nuckelavee," Scott explained.

"Does that mean that you're going to kill them by first having them count salt or sugar?" Elysif asked with a belittling look as if she thought the idea was stupid. It was most definitely a stupid idea, though.

"Absolutely," he replied with a smug grin, ignoring Elysif's look.

"Well then, you can count me out," Elysif proclaimed, marching away, but was stopped when Scott grabbed the back of her shirt's collar.

"Nope, you're coming with us. Remember, you wanted to come with us, and your train ticket wasn't free. Plus, if you aren't there, then who's gonna heal us when we get hurt?" Scott said with what I could swear was a threatening aura.

"But I don't want to die!" she said, scared and desperate. Shaking her head, she backed away a bit for emphasis.

"Then, don't die," Scott said, before letting her go and opening the door across the hall from Mary's. I felt a little left out of the conversation, but I agreed with Elysif. I didn't want to die either, and it was a terrible plan. I just hoped that it would, well… work.

"Arbus! My old undead friend. How are you?" Scott said as he entered the room. Rather than being alone, there were two men in the room. One looked to be around fifteen or sixteen with red eyes and dirty blonde hair. Not only that, but he shared the same pale complexion as Mary, and a face that showed even less emotion than she did. The boy wore a loose black suit, with the top three buttons of his shirt undone, and no tie. Despite our loud entrance, he barely seemed to acknowledge us as we came in. The other man, on the other hand, did notice us, and quickly turned to look at us with shock in his glaring eyes.

He had dark black skin, and was dressed in a brown suit with short black hair. Unlike Scott, this man seemed to carry himself with a sense of dignity and pride similar to Director Langston. Though he was in a bit of shock from Scott bursting in, that turned into a frown the moment he actually saw Scott. I don't know what their history was, but it seemed like a lot of people didn't like Scott. How he managed to stay an agent of the Table for this long was beyond me.

The room itself was similar to Mary's room in size, but instead of bookshelves stacked in a maze, it was open, with wooden filing cabinets on each wall, with a desk in the center of the room. A few files lined the desk, along with some writing utensils and a typewriter. Other than the cabinets, there were some small paintings that resembled sunny beaches from different parts of history. It was almost as if he chose them out of a desire to visit them.

"Why don't you ever greet me properly, you drunk ass?" The dark-haired man asked Scott whilst seeming jokingly offended. Although there was some dissatisfaction with Scott's introduction, he also seemed to be happy to see him.

"Ten? You're still here? I would have thought you would have left on another mission by now," Scott said, confused. He also did not want to admit that he was happy to see his brother. They both knew it, but they also respected each other enough to hide it for the other's sake.

"For the last time, it's COMPTON! And I am on a mission, one that is top secret," Compton yelled, losing his patience. The moment Compten heard the old nickname that Scott knew he hated, Compton couldn't help but lose his composure.

"It didn't sound so top secret when you told me," the younger man said with a bit of sass that could not be expressed in either his tone or his facial expression, but instead, in his delivery. Compton shot him a glare, a threat for him to shut up.

"You told Arbus but you're not willing to tell me? I'm hurt that you think of me as less of a friend than Arbus," Scott said with a sadly dramatic flair that only seemed to make things a bit awkward for everyone.

The two continued to argue with each other, along with the occasional butt in from Arbus. I felt as if we were witnessing some drama that didn't concern me and I should avoid. Elysif was apparently thinking the same thing, since we both backed out of the room quietly and shut the door slowly. Once the door was shut, we both let out a deep sigh, before looking at each other. Neither of us wanted to be a third wheel in that mess.

"We should probably leave them be. Scott and Uncle Compton will probably want to talk for a bit," Elysif said.

"Agreed…" I said. Then I realized what she had just said and became a bit confused. "Wait, uncle?"

"Yeah. Scott and Compton were raised together, so they're like brothers. I just call him Uncle because it's easier," Elysif explained.

"I see, that makes sense. Though it seemed like they weren't on the best of terms," I replied.

"That's just how they are. I don't think I've ever seen them actually mad at each other," Elysif stated.

"Okay. Well, that's good," I said. After that, we began wandering back toward the large circular room. One thing about what she said stuck with me though. It was gonna eat at me until I knew, so I quickly asked, "One thing. You refer to Compton as your uncle, but he's Scott's brother. Does that mean that you see Scott as a father?"

Elysif tensed up at this question. Though she seemed more surprised by the question than bothered by it. With a poorly forced smile, she answered, "He's more like an older brother to me. Though, when Silva was still alive, they treated me like a daughter. After that, though, Scott grew colder."

"... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," I said, getting quiet. The awkward silence between us as we continued strolling around allowed me to think a bit. I know I was trying to have a good conversation, but I just made it bring back bad memories.

"I wonder where we are staying for the night? I'm getting rather tired," Elysif asked as we roamed, breaking the silence.

"I don't know, but I'm getting tired too. Maybe Scott's father-in-law can help us find a place?" I replied. Perhaps she was just letting it go? I hoped so.

"What can I help you with?" a voice said from behind. It shocked Elysif and me to the point where we both jumped forward. Then we both realized it was Scott's father-in-law, Aaron.

"You scared us there. We were wondering where we might be staying for the night. Maybe you could help us?" Elysif asked.

Aaron thought for a moment, before finally answering, "There is a fine hotel run by a Witches Coven that is on good terms with the Table. You could stay there," he said as he stroked his chin.

"Is there anywhere else?" Elysif asked awkwardly.

"Oh, right. I forgot about your issue with Covens, Elysif, and I was wrong to offer it. There might be a few spare rooms in the main Castle. I could ask, if you would like." he replied apologetically.

"It's fine. Please ask for us, if possible," she replied with a slight bow. He bowed in return, and stepped away. Stopping mid-step, he turned back to us. "Oh, and before I forget. Lou, I believe you still only have a knife as your weapon. If you would like, you can go to the armory and find yourself a better weapon now that you're an official agent."

'Thank you, I will," I replied, smiling with a thankful nod, and he continued his advance down the hall. What a nice man.

Not long after Aaron had left, we realized that I had forgotten to ask where the Armory was, and to top it off, Elysif didn't know where it was either. She and I wandered around for a bit, trying to ask where the armory was from any person we came across. Some gave us horrible directions, while others ignored us. In our search, we found several offices, storerooms, and even a ballroom of sorts. I'm pretty sure the ballroom was actually a training room that doubled as an event room or something like that, but I had no clue. We eventually found the armory, along with an older man that wasn't too happy to have us waltzing into his workplace unannounced. There wasn't much in the armory other than a few shelves stacked with boxes that were all labeled differently, and a counter to separate people from it. On the side of the armory opposite the counter, was a smithing area where a furnace and anvil sat cold, with several tools hanging on the wall next to it.

"Hello, I am a new agent of the Table and was told to come here for a better weapon by Director Langston," I said to the man at the counter, showing him my badge.

"What exactly do you need? Weapons change depending on what you're trying to take care of. That, and where you are. Some weapons you want to conceal, and others you want to be exposed," the old man said.

"I'm not sure what weapon I want. I have this silver dagger, but I need something made of Iron for dealing with Willowisps, and also something silver for anything else I come across. Though I would like to still be able to use it in London," I explained.

He pondered for a second, before pulling a box off the shelf. Then, he opened it up to reveal a six-shot revolver with a detachable silver blade on the underside of the barrel. With it, he gave me an iron blade to replace the silver one whenever I needed to. Beside it, he set a box of iron bullets and another with silver bullets. It would work perfectly if I knew anything about guns other than from the video games I played. I guess I would have to figure that out pretty soon. While I was admiring the craftsmanship of the gun, he set a leather holster with a slot to hold the extra blade next to it.

Elysif also asked for a coat with Iron thread sewn into it. He asked her size, and then got her the coat from another shelf. I wish I could have gotten one of those, but sadly, he didn't have any in my size. The old man then held out his hand covered in burn scars. "Your badge, please," he said as if it were a business transaction. Taking my badge out, I handed it to him, but I was unsure as to why he needed it. The old man looked at the badge and shook his head.

"How much experience in battle do you have?" he asked with a sympathetic look.

"I killed a changeling with a coin and got stabbed in the gut. I've also been beaten up a lot by Scott Langston," I answered honestly. Elysif gave me a look that told me I said too much, but I'm sure that the old man knew I was joking… kind of. The old man let out a grumpy sigh, before reaching under the counter and pulling out two tiny metal stars.

"If you're with Scott, then you should be fine. The man is a capable warrior. Though we can't have a one-star agent going against something like a Willowisp. The higher-ups don't like having to explain to our patrons that, because we are short-handed, we keep sending low-ranking members on dangerous missions to fill the ranks, so we'll promote you two stars today," the old man said with a smile of his condolences.

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just looked from him to Elysif and back to him, concerned. Ignoring my reaction, he quickly pinned the stars to the top of the metal badge. With a quick slap of a hammer, the stars were set in place. Then, pulling a piece of paper and a stamp pad from under the counter, he began listing out the equipment with a quill-tipped pen. Once he had the items listed out, the old man placed my badge on the stamp pad and stamped the bottom of the paper with it. After stamping it, the badge was wiped off with a wet rag and handed back to me.

"The items are yours now. However, if you leave the service of the Table, then we will require those items back. If any of it is destroyed or lost, then you will have to submit a lost item report so that we don't try tracking you down for an item that is no longer in your possession. Do you understand?" the old man asked as if he were tired of saying it so often. After doing so, he rested his arm overtop of the equipment. The aura radiating off him sent a chill down my spine. It wasn't a threatening aura, though, this was the aura of a battle-hardened warrior. It was so chilling, in fact, that Elysif and I looked physically drained.

"Of course," I agreed. He nodded his head, and stepped back from the counter so we could take our equipment. As he did, his aura subsided and we felt normal. Was it magic? No way, that was just pure charisma.

"Then, till we meet again, fellow warriors…" The old man nodded and returned to what he had been doing before we arrived.

Somewhat… satisfied, we left the Armory, only to bump into Director Langston again. Telling us he found an open room for us, the Director led us there. Once the Director got us settled in, he left to find Scott, while Elysif and I had to figure out the solution to another dilemma. Who was going to sleep where?

There was a single oversized bed and a small hardwood couch in the room, but there were three of us. We decided that since Scott wasn't there to speak his opinion, he didn't get a choice in the matter. The couch was practically all hardwood except for a thin red cushion on the seat. Neither of us wanted it, so it came down to a mutual agreement; that Scott would get the couch and we would share the bed. However, it was made very clear that Elysif would dissect me and not put me back together if I crossed into her side of the bed. And here I thought we had a bonding moment by avoiding Scott and his family issues.

Scott didn't arrive at the room till about eleven that night, and immediately kicked me off the bed, waking me up in the process of falling onto the rug-covered stone floor with a flat thud. I groggily sat up from the floor, holding my back from where I just fell on it. As I did, Scott trudged over to the couch sitting in front of the bed with a slight chuckle and drunkenly fell onto it, where he promptly fell asleep. Since there was no point in making a fuss, I simply called him a dick and slothfully laid back on the bed.

As I awoke the next morning, the only sound that could be heard was the groaning and moaning of an aching Scott. Because of the noise, Elysif begrudgingly got up to get one of the bottles of liquor that she knew he packed, only to find that none of our bags were there. She looked around with a confused and tired look, as Scott continued to groan louder.

"What's wrong?" I asked Elysif as I got up. The bed was a lot nicer than my own, which made me start to feel bad for Scott due to the sleeping arrangement. His pained groans and moans only made it worse. Though his groans and moans quickly turned to just moans, and then moans of a sexual nature, making me realize that he was just fucking with us, and all my guilt dissipated, so I just ignored him.

"Our bags… We left our bags on the Train," Elysif said as if she had just completely given up. In response to this, Scott immediately stopped moaning and sat straight up.

"My booze…" Scott said in the same depressed fashion as Elysif. Then his gaze shot up with hope. "… I can raid my father in-laws' liquor cabinet."

"What?" I said with an arched brow and squinted glare. Had I heard him right? I didn't know, but he got up and meandered out of the room and down the hall.

Having nothing else to do, we equipped the new items we received from the old man and strolled back into the basement of Warwick Castle to look for Director Langston. There was the possibility that he could help us obtain some spare clothes before we left. Though, neither Elysif nor I knew when we were leaving. As we were looking about, we bumped into Arbus, who had been looking for Scott or ourselves.

Unlike yesterday, the vampire wore an oversized shirt and slippers rather than his nice clothes. Instead of allowing conversation us, he strutted up to Elysif, handed her a single piece of paper, and said, "Give it to Scott when you see him next." before scuttering off. The only thing that I could read from his body language was that he was tired.

Looking over the paper, Elysif found that it was a small list of ways the Table had dealt with Willowisps in the past. It contained three things, stabbing it through its heart with anything iron, anywhere sandy, and surrounding the beast with iron dust so it can't escape. Elysif thought all of those ideas were rather stupid, while I found them simple, yet genius, albeit the fact that these were the only ideas that the table had both used and successfully worked against Willowisps, made us both worry a tad bit more.

Eventually, we did manage to locate director Langston. Though, he was rushing around frantically, looking for some materials that had been requested by another director. Because of this, upon seeing us, he strutted over to us with a professional, but obviously forced, smile, and tucked his arms behind his back, "What can I do for you two? Had you had everything you needed, I was sure that Scott would have had you to the train station by now," he said as he pulled out the pocket watch from his waist pocket, and looked at it for an added effect of tardiness shame. We didn't know we were tardy about anything, so we didn't mind.

"We accidentally left our luggage on the train and have no spare clothes. Would you happen to have any spare clothes that we and Scott may borrow?" Elysif asked with a professional composure. There was no way to prevent her from sounding like a grandchild asking their doting grandparent for a favor. It was kind of adorable to watch, even though she had a serious tone and demeanor the entire tim

"I see. Can I assume that Scott is currently raiding my liquor cabinet...?" Director Langston asked with an expected huff. "Alright… Go to my quarters and in the chest are some of Silva's old clothes. Some of it may fit you. As for Mr. Barrett, I have some spare shirts and pants that may fit."

"Thank you so much," I replied, honestly thankful that I didn't have to spend our entire trip to Haringey without a spare change of clothes.

"You're both very welcome. Also, Elysif, keep an eye on Scott for me. Keep him out of trouble… and out of the expensive bottles in my liquor cabinet," he said with a proper smile this time.

"That may be difficult, but I'll do my best," Elysif replied. They both had a little chuckle over this, since both knew that they could neither predict nor expect anything that Scott did.

Heading back upstairs to where the room we slept in was, Elysif led me further down the hall to a door marked with a do not enter sign on it. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, we found Scott, who was actively drinking some Chateau Margaux with a mix of disgust and pleasure. Elysif quickly took it from his lips, much to his displeasure, and read the year 1787 on the bottle with a petrified expression. Since there was little to none left, she shrugged and drank some of the contents before handing it to me.

"This bottle was worth more than our building in London. Director Langston is gonna be mad at Scott about it anyways, so you may as well try some," Elysif said. Scott just stood there with a dumbfounded look, as he questioned whether or not Elysif actually took that bottle from him. Though he quickly stopped caring, and returned to the liquor cabinet for a bottle of brandy.

Within the hour, we had borrowed some clothes, eaten some breakfast, and were headed to Haringey by train, which was great for everyone, except Scott, who couldn't keep anything down. By the time we had arrived in Haringey, Scott was looking like a ragdoll in the wind. He kept saying gibberish and chuckling to himself like he was actually drunk. We ended up dragging him and the few things we had to a nearby inn, where we chucked Scott on one of the beds and enjoyed a meal, before heading up to take a nap ourselves.

The inn was a large rustic cottage, with cobblestone taking up half of the first floor's walls, and a mix of wood and plaster taking up the rest of the wall space. The inn was also set up with a second story containing four rooms. The entire lower floor was a pub for the locals, with a large room for the innkeepers. In the back right corner of the lower floor was a large cobblestone hearth, with several tables scattered around. Near the hearth, on the left side of the room, was the bar, where the innkeeper was busy cleaning glasses, while across the room, was the staircase leading upstairs, and behind it were two doors, one leading out back, and the other that accessed the innkeepers room. Behind the inn were a fenced yard and a separate building that held the kitchen.

The next morning, Scott awoke in a cheery mood, and although he had slept well, he ended up eating more food than I'd ever seen him eat for breakfast. Guess he was hungry? Well, he did spew everything on the train, so it makes sense. Elysif and I joined him for breakfast, but ours were a simple plate of bread with cheese and a single sausage. Once we had all eaten, Scott had the innkeeper extend our stay, and we headed off to explore the town.

We wandered a little way into the classic cottage-style town. Most of the buildings shared the inn's style of having cobbled stone for the base, with plaster walls and wood supports. The rest of the buildings were similar to London's grey brick ones. All of the larger streets were a mix of cobblestone and dirt, while most of the other roads were dirt paths. To the east and west were lush green fields, with herds of sheep and cows grazing peacefully in the grass with the fresh morning dew. Beyond the town's fields, to the east, was the forest that the Willowisps were suspected to be coming from. Everything looked peaceful. Even with the rumor of a monster, and the fact that it was starting to get chilly from the September air, the townspeople were bustling around the town. As far as I could tell, there was no danger here. The people were happy, and children ran along playing happily without any kind of guidance. It was a nice town.

"So, Scott?" I started. There was still a bit of curiosity with Scott's family situation, because I'm just a nosey little shit, but I also wanted to understand what was going on. He seemed to not be bothered by questions like this, so it shouldn't be wrong to ask.

"So, what?" he replied, inquisitive.

"Your friend, Compton. Why did it seem like you two were having a spat? Elysif said that he and you were raised together, so I would assume that you two would get along," I asked, putting together the little bit of knowledge I had.

"Is that what it seemed like to you? That we were having a spat?" he asked rhetorically, before letting out a sigh. "He might be my longest known living friend. In fact, I would say he's more like a brother. He is one of the few traveling agents of the Table that takes on jobs all over the world, and it's usually top secret, so I rarely get to see him. When I do, though, I like to mess with him, and he does the same. It's just the way that we bond," Scott explained as if he were reminiscing about the past. He even seemed happy about my misunderstanding for reasons I didn't comprehend.

"I did find it strange to see Uncle Compton without him sending a letter first," Elysif said, joining in on the conversation.

"He has been busy with a mission recently and couldn't stay long, so he didn't want to make a big deal out of it. Compton did come to visit us before Mama Louise's party, though. I was going to introduce Lou to him, but we were busy, and he couldn't stay for long. I was going to introduce you yesterday, but you both disappeared and I… forgot," Scott said, as he realized that he had never introduced me. Anyone could tell that he was regretting that.

"Did he tell you what his secret mission was?" I asked.

"No, and I was just giving him a hard time. Of course Ten would tell Arbus the details of the mission. Arbus and Mary have archived everything since the time of the Knights of the Templar," Scott said.

"I didn't know the Table was affiliated with the Knight's of the Templar!" Elysif said, surprised.

"We were the Knight's of the Templar," Scott replied in his usual crass, smartass tone.

"What!" we both exclaimed in shock. I didn't know all of my history, but that didn't add up for some reason.

"Yep, after the Knights of the Round Table disbanded, we changed names for a bit and ended up becoming the Knights of the Templar. Though, after the first crusade, Mordred decided that they had strayed from their mission, and left the Church with a bunch of the knights. After that, we were scattered all over the world as traitors that fought monsters as aimless wanderers. The Table couldn't keep the peace that way, so Mordred gathered as many remnants of the order and started over in the early fifteen-hundreds. We were unnamed for a while, until we decided to go with the title of Table in the mid-seventeen-hundreds," Scott explained. It sounded like a proper history lesson, so we took the explanation as is.

"So, what do we need to do in town?" I asked, as no one had told me what we were supposed to be doing yet.

"We need to talk to the people of Haringey about the Willowisps without mentioning monsters or the supernatural. People start to think you're crazy if you do, because we do a pretty good job and make sure the general populace isn't aware of their existence… with a lot of exceptions," he answered as if he knew from experience.

"So, basically, what you're saying is that we need to ask if anything strange has happened recently?" Elysif summarized.

"Exactly," Scott said.

"Should we split up?" I asked. It did seem like the best option for covering more ground, but I still wasn't sure if it was safe with Willowisps being at large.

"That might be for the best. We could meet back at the inn at sundown," Elysif said.

"I agree," Scott said. Scott took the south, Elysif took the north, and I took East. Since Scott was headed south back towards the inn, I can only assume he was going to drink and sleep rather than doing his job, but I'll wait until later to deal with that. Despite everything, Scott gave me a job and a home, so I owed it to him to try and do my job at the very least.

Without much to go on, I the nearest shop-looking building and took a look inside. It was an old bakery. There were stacks of bread on the shelves and even more on trays behind. In the back was a large metal oven that was heated by a wood flame, and a woman stood bent over beside the stove and threw a few logs in. She was a stout woman with her hair tied up under a bonnet and an apron that draped over the front of her dress. Her face was sweaty and covered in a mix of flour and spices that she was blissfully unaware of.

She didn't seem surprised to see me enter, but came over to greet me nonetheless. "What do ya want?" she asked in a thick Scottish accent. "Are you the new delivery boy?" she continued.

"No, miss. I am just visiting and wanted to ask you some questions," I replied as considerately and respectfully as possible. She thought for a moment, clicking her lips before finally speaking.

"You can ask me a question if you buy a loaf of bread," she stated with a smug scowl.

Reaching into my pocket, I handed her a penny from my pocket and she unenthusiastically gave me a loaf of bread. "So what do ya want to ask?" she said in the same thick Scottish accent.

I looked her up and down before finally asking my question. "Have you noticed anything strange around here or in the woods?"

"No," she said without even giving herself a second to think.

"What about—" I started to ask, but she interrupted me.

"Another question, another loaf of bread. Pay up before ya ask," she stated.

I couldn't think of anything else to combat her greedy nature. I needed answers, but I wanted to leave and find someone else to give me some clues. I was just glad she wasn't speaking Cockney. "Fine, here you go," I said reluctantly, handing her another penny. She then handed me another loaf of bread and stood cross-armed, waiting for my question.

"Has anyone around her gone missing recently?" I asked, trying not to say anything about the fact that it was probably a waste of money.

"No, not at all. Rubin protects us from wolves and other such things around here," she said as if I were daft. Who is this Rubin guy? A cult leader or something? I handed her a penny once more and, with a smile, she handed me another loaf of bread.

"Who is Rubin?" I asked.

"Rubin is'n older gent who protects us from wolves and other such things, he also has his things help us in the fields. We tried to pay him, but he refused, so we give him groceries instead," she said as if she were a schoolgirl talking about her crush. It was weird and made me feel just as disturbed as that time Iscariot flirted with Mama Louise, if not more so. Handing her another penny, she handed me another loaf. Though it looked like I was running out of pennies.

"And where can I find—" I started to ask before a very loud "thunk" sound echoed behind me. I turned around to see a very tall man in an equally long coat laying on his back in front of the bakery door. He had to have been at least two and a half meters tall. "Are you okay?" I asked the man.

The man sat up in response to my question and looked me in the eyes. For a second, I could have sworn his face was a skull, but when I blinked, I saw he had the blandest face I have ever seen. If the most common stock photo was made human, his face would be it. Maybe the skull was just my imagination? Without a word, he stood back up and walked right into the headboard again. Like before, he fell back on his ass. Did he have a concussion? I felt like I should be stifling a laugh, but instead I was just bewildered.

Before I could react, the baker suddenly ran out the door with a bag full of bread and pastries. "Don't worry about comin' inside, dear. You'll hurt yourself," she said to the man in a much sweeter voice than when she was just speaking to me.

"My master thanks you," the tall man said to the baker woman in a dark, cold accent; and without another word, he stood up and marched off.

"Who was that?" I asked the lady as she stepped back inside. She held out her hand and gestured with an expectant nod that she was waiting. I reached into my pocket and gave her the last of my pennies. Greedy little shit. Satisfied, she pranced back behind the counter to retrieve another loaf for my stack.

"That was one of Rubin's creatures. They look like us, but they sure don't act like it, though," she replied.

"Thank you for the info… and the bread," I said, taking the bread and heading out the door. Once I was outside, I looked around for the tall man, but saw no trace of him. You would think a guy as tall as he would be easier to find... Nonetheless, I headed in the direction I saw him going.

Passing a few buildings, I saw Elysif squatting behind a bush, looking down the next road. "What are you doing?" I asked, as I came up behind her. She jumped up and turned towards me with a yelp.

"Jesus Christ! Don't scare me like that," she said in a slight panic.

"Okay, but what are you doing?" I asked again, ignoring her tense nature.

"I was watching this very sketchy tall man and… why do you have several loaves of bread?" she asked, as her attention was turned to my armful of grain, giving me a cockeyed stare.

"I'll tell you later. You want one?" I asked before extending a loaf out to her.

"Sure…" she answered with an unsure look, taking a loaf from me.

"This tall guy wouldn't happen to be carrying a bag filled with pastries, would he?" I asked.

"Well, he wasn't carrying a bag of any kind but he did slam his head into the doorway of that building," she said, pointing at the building across from us.

"And that's what made you suspicious of him?" I asked, cocking my eyebrow. I mean, I did the same thing, but I just thought he was stupid at first.

"Of course not. I thought it was strange, yes, but when I looked at him I could have sworn his head was a skull. No face or anything," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"The same thing happened to me a few minutes ago with a similar person, or it could be the same one. I was following him, but I lost sight of him before seeing you," I replied.

"So it wasn't just my imagination? Thank goodness," she said, before taking a bite out of the loaf of bread.

"Yeah, well it doesn't matter now. I don't see him anywhere," I said, as I looked around the area. There was nothing except for the few locals who were silently judging us from afar for squatting in a bush.

"Shit," Elysif suddenly said in alarm and disgust.

"I know, that was a good lead," I said disappointed, not understanding Elysif's reaction.

"No, this bread is shit," she said before looking at it to see if there was anything noticeably wrong with it.

"Oh!" I said before taking a bite out of it for myself. Dear God, she was right. It tasted like ash and sawdust cooked with salt and a dash of sugar, so I rapidly spit it on the ground. Though I stopped as soon as I realized that we still may have a lead. "Hey, do you have a few pennies on you?" She gave me a strange look.

"Of course I do," Elysif replied with a confused expression.

"Good," I said, without giving any hint to relieve her confusion. Leading Elysif to the bakery I just came from, we used her money to buy more bread and questions. She wasn't very happy, but didn't argue with me about it, so I assume she trusts me.

"Do you know where we can find this Rubin fellow?" I asked with Elysif's penny.

She rubbed her chin for a moment before answering. "He lives in the forest. No one knows where, but don't go a causin' trouble near his home. He may be a kind soul, but his creatures are meant to protect, and that means if ya mean him harm, they will protect 'em with a vengeance," she warned.

"Fair enough," Elysif replied, before strolling out the bakery door. Hearing the baker's answer, I couldn't help but look at Elysif like she was insane as I followed behind her. That was a fair warning, and I don't want to die.

"Do you want to head back to the inn?" Elysif asked, noticing my anxiety.

"Yes, but what do we do with all this bread?" I asked as I held up the armful of loaves in my arms.

"We could eat it, give it to someone on the street, or have Scott eat it," she answered jokingly.

"I think Scott could eat anything without an issue," I joked back.

"Well… there was a time when he wouldn't eat at all because he would just hack it up," she said, solemnly.

"When was this?" I asked with a bit of concern, as I had never heard of this.

"Right after his wife was killed. He couldn't stomach what he did and the pain of loss made it worse. Silva was a good friend of mine, and even saved me. What happened to Scott as a result, she would have never wanted," she said with a hurt expression.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I was the one who brought it up. Just don't mention it to Scott, he is trying to stay sober in preparation for our fight against the Willowisps, and so he might be more emotional," Elysif explained apologetically.

We were nearly back at the inn, but what she said about him being sober in preparation for battle made me wonder. Did he drink because he was depressed or was it something else?

"So, Elysif, why does Scott drink so much? I understand if it's related to his wife, but I feel like it's also something else," I asked.

"It is something else, but I don't think I'm the one who should be telling you. Ask him yourself if you want to know," she said with a tired expression.

"That would be too embarrassing to ask out of the blue with him. He isn't exactly the type to just tell us something if we ask,"

"Fair enough," she said, still refusing to let me in on why he drinks.

"He can tell me when he feels like it, but I think I would have an easier time accepting his drunk nature if I knew. For now, I'm fine with it, since you and Iscariot are fine with it," I said.

"You know... when you say stuff like that you sound like a mature adult instead of your usual self," Elysif said with a condescending and snarky smile.

"I am more mature than you. Wait, what do I sound like normally?" I asked, slightly offended by her snarky remark.

"Like hell you're more mature than me!" she stated angrily. Without missing a beat, Elysif changed her tone to that of a more joking one. "I am a refined woman of society, and a doctor." This caused us both to chuckle. After she said this, a quick look around showed that we had passed the inn without realizing it, and were about two buildings away.

"I think we missed the inn? Let's turn around," I said, bringing her attention to where we were. Upon noticing that I was right, she punched me in the arm lightly.

"Stop distracting me," she replied, before turning around and marching back towards the inn.

When we got to the front of the inn, I opened the door for Elysif, nearly dropping my armful of bread in the process. As she entered, I gave a respectful bow before saying, "After you. A refined woman of society like yourself should be doted upon, yes?"

She gave me an exasperated look, knowing that I was only giving her crap for what she said a moment ago. "Shut up, you ass," she replied, before storming inside with a huff. We had only been gone two and a half hours, but we might have gotten some good leads as to where we needed to go. Because we were back so early, we were planning on waiting for Scott to come back, but we didn't have to wait. Scott was already there, sitting at a table with his feet up and a mug in hand.

"Hey, Scott, you look busy," I sneered in annoyance, as Elysif and I stormed towards his table. We couldn't help but feel offended by his laziness.

"Oh… bugger," he said in a slight panic, as he looked up at us and put his feet down. "I was waiting for you to return, I found some leads."

"We also found some leads," Elysif replied, ignoring his obvious lie.

"Oh, really. What are they?" he asked.

"You first," I said. He looked at me as if I had just betrayed him. Though he just let out an accepting sigh before speaking.

"Fine, the innkeeper who is currently preparing my lunch has been telling me about some very tall men that aren't actually human. They come into town once a week for groceries and other supplies at the behest of their master. The townspeople don't charge for any of it since these creatures are protecting the town from wolves and anything else that might be around. Some even said that they also help with farmwork in the spring and fall. A few of the townsfolk even attempted to pay the creature's master, but he refused and only asked for supplies," Scott answered. I guess he wasn't lying, after all. Elysif was happy with that answer, so she sat down at the table next to Scott. Having been looking around for the past two and a half hours, I wanted to sit as well, so I did, across from Elysif.

"That sounds similar to what we learned, but we believe that these tall men are actually the Willowisps in disguise. We both saw one and also saw its bone face," Elysif replied.

"Well, that's interesting. I had a feeling that was the case, but Willowisps are known to be incredibly dangerous. Maybe their master is just good enough at controlling them? Though that would require a serious amount of strength and focus. I wouldn't be surprised if he lost control of a few of them and that is what attacked a few of our supernatural associates," Scott pondered aloud. As he did, Scott swirled the drink in his hand, gazing into the foaming liquid.

"I also learned the name of their master and have an idea of where he possibly lives," I added.

"That's good to hear. What's his name, and where can we find him?" Scott asked.

"Rubin, and he lives in the Forest to the east."

"No shit, Sherlock! We know he lives in the forest, that's where they've been coming from. Also, why are your arms full of bread?" Scott asked me with a confused look.

"That's a story that I don't want to get into," I said, looking down at my bread. "You want some?"

"Sure, but since we have to wait a week before the Willowisps show up again, I can drink for the next six days. You two want to join in?" Scott asked, before pulling out his flask and chugging some of it.

"I can drink to that!" Elysif replied eagerly.

"I wouldn't mind some beer," I agreed. Scott then took a bite out of one of the loaves of bread.

"Wow, that tastes like shit!" he said, looking it up and down for issues like Elysif had done before taking another bite despite the taste.


***


Nearly a week passed. and the three of us spent our entire time wandering around town and getting to know the locals. It was like a paid vacation. Scott did get a letter from Iscariot during that time, but it contained nothing more than an informative report explaining that nothing had happened. Otherwise, we did nothing that mattered to our job. On the day of the Willowisps' visit, though, we staked out the bakery that I saw it retrieve pastries from before.

The morning September air was cold to a point of moderate annoyance, along with the moist morning dew. Not only was I cold and tired of sitting in a bush, but my legs had nearly fallen asleep. Meanwhile, Scott wasn't bothered at all that he had been sitting in the same position for five hours without moving. Elysif, on the other hand, had gotten bored thirty minutes into our stakeout, so she began mixing herbs and chemicals she brought with her. Although it was technically her job, she seemed to view it more as a hobby than anything.

We were armed as well as we could be. Elysif was wearing the iron lined suit she was given, and she had prepared several magical equivalents of a molotov cocktail. Scott had worn his usual garb, and continued to use his gloves, however, the ones he was wearing currently were lined with iron instead of silver. I, on the other hand, had the silver knife, my pistol with iron bullets, and a bag of rice as a last resort.

It was taking forever for this thing to show up, and I was considering leaving, before I heard Elysif whisper, "There it is." Scott and I both looked at the giant of a man with sudden eagerness. I recognized him as the man I saw before easily, as who could ever forget a face so bland and emotionless? The baker gave him a sack of pastries like before, and with a nod, he strolled towards the forest. Following behind it by a few meters, as we wanted to make sure that it didn't notice us, we ducked behind another bush.

Once he had entered the forest, though, we saw it begin to change physically. The coat, along with its other clothing, disappeared into its hunched over body. Standing up, the beast revealed that it was roughly four meters tall. Its arms were at least two meters long, with its legs looking to be around two and a half. It had the skull of a cow, rather than an elk like the description, but the jaw was closed. Its skin was black as night, and its eyes glowed a demonic yellow. The strands of hair on the back of its skull head were similar to that of willow branches, but the closer I looked, the more it seemed like dreaded hair with leaves stuck in it. The Willowisp's hands were long and skinny, but looked around the size of my chest, and hanging from its right hand was the bag of pastries.

The Willowisp looked around for a moment before continuing to stroll deeper into the forest. Or at least we thought it was going for a stroll as it bolted off running at full speed deep into the woods. Jesus it was fast! The Willowisp glode between the trees with such speed that it reminded me of a drag racer.

"Well… fuck!" I said with a defeated look.

"Do you think you can catch up to it, Scott?" Elysif asked, turning to him.

"Of course. I have been sober all day," he replied with a devilish smile.

"What? There is no way you could possibly catch up to that thing!" I rebutted, but, to my surprise, he stood up from the bush we were crouched behind and took off running almost as fast as the Willowisp did. "JESUS CHRIST!?!?!" I yelled.

"We should try and catch up to him," Elysif said, without a single sign of shock from what we just witnessed, as she stood up from behind the bush.

"... Sure? But that didn't seem humanly possible?" I said, as I stood up behind her and the two of us started to sprint after him. My mind was doing everything in its power to comprehend what I just saw.

"It's not humanly possible. He is the only human in the world as far as we know that can do that. Iscariot turned his body into one giant magic tool and it takes a massive amount of control. There are some negative side effects, though. Magic tools, as you know, help people use magic more easily, but it has a price," she said as we ran. "Have you ever felt tired after using your knife?" she asked me.

"Well, yes, but only when I use it a lot," I replied casually, as I jumped over a root.

"Well, his enchantments work the same way, and tire him out, but it also puts strain on his body. His muscles will start tearing if he uses it for too long, but he can temporarily devoid the effects of the runes with alcohol. That, and the alcohol stops him from feeling any pain that he would normally feel as a side effect of the runes on his body. Thus, he can go as long as he needs to without activating the runes so long as he is intoxicated. Though he can't activate them while under the influence, because of the amount of focus it requires. If he were to make even the slightest error, then he could burst an artery, or worse," she continued.

"Well, now I know why he drinks so much. But why did he do that if it's such a danger to his health?" I asked.

"... I… shouldn't say. That's the part you'll have to ask him about yourself," she said, as we arrived to see Scott hiding behind a tree. He was looking at something beyond it, but he was also breathing heavily. He let out a small cough as we ran up. "You shouldn't put too much strain on yourself, Scott," Elysif said in a truly caring voice.

"I'm fine. Now get down," he whispered harshly to get us to understand the danger ahead.

We squatted down next to Scott to see where he was looking. We saw three Willowisps standing among the trees, all of which were moving their heads back and forth like the security cameras in a crappy spy movie. Scott looked up at them then back at us and whispered, "I'm going to charge them. Lou, you give me cover fire with your gun, and Elysif, you need to chuck a few of the explosives around them to cut off any means of escape. Got it?!"

Both of us nodded in agreement as we pulled out our weapons. "Good, now don't let me die," he said semi-jokingly, before charging at the middle Willowisp. Before it could react, Scott jumped three meters with such force that I could see the air behind him moving. Scott's fist slammed into the Willowisp's face, causing it to fall backward against the ground. Striking it a second time, Scott cracked the creature's skull, and it started to turn to dust as every other creature we killed did. I was in awe.

Scott rapidly turned to the one on his left, as it brought down its hand towards him with incredible speed. He barely dodged with a backward jump, while I fired a shot at the creature's back, but sadly, I missed. Its body was so slim that I couldn't hit it, and it didn't help that I had never shot a gun before. From the other side of our hiding spot, Elysif chucked one of her cocktails at the third Willowisp, causing a small explosion of blue flames to rain over the beast. However, the Willowisp was unaffected by the blast, other than being confused for a few seconds. Hoping that I could actually kill it, I took a shot at the one Elysif had attacked, only to just graze its side with a sizzle of its black skin.

As the Willowisp swung at Scott again, he dodged around a tree and grabbed the Willowisp's arm from behind it. This caused the beast to howl in pain, and fling its arm up in the air along with Scott, who was still hanging on to the creature's appendage as it sizzled like grease on a hot pan. He let go of it in time to be released into the air above it, so that he may use the downward momentum to land a hit on the Willowisp. Sadly, Scott missed and struck the ground next to it with a pained thud, creating a small crater, and knocking the Willowisp back.

Meanwhile, Elysif threw another explosive at the one next to Scott, but rather than exploding with blue flames, it released hundreds of small iron pellets like a grenade. The pellets struck the Willowisp, causing it to howl in pain, but it was not truly injured, as the pellets were not flying hard enough to pierce its skin. The other, which had been dealing with Elysif's other explosives, turned and smacked Scott from behind, sending him flying off into a tree. From there, he fell down the tree to the ground. After a bit of groaning, Scott attempted to get up, but the Willowisp was already on top of him. It struck him again with a swing of its long arm, sending him flying deeper into the forest. In an attempt to get the beast away from Scott, I fired off two bullets at the creature. One missed, the other struck its leg, slowing it down for a moment, as it fell forward and crashed into the dirt with a pained howl.

I was pleased that I had been a bit helpful and was aiming for another shot when I heard Elysif shout, "Lou, look out!" but it was too late. A dark hand came from my side and grabbed me. The Willowisp that was hit with Elysif's iron shrapnel had recovered to an extent, and reached for the closest threat: me. It lifted me up by my chest and slammed me into the crater that Scott had created just moments ago. When I made contact with the painfully hard ground, the bag of grain broke and fell out all around me. It did nothing to the Willowisp as it was so worried about killing me that it didn't see it.

The shockwave that the Willowisp sent through me, combined with the force of being slammed into the ground, caused me to cough and sputter. I thought that I could feel my ribs being crushed under the weight of its grip. The Willowisp climbed on top of me, and got its maggot-ridden skull face close to mine. The jaw of the monstrosity's skull unhinged, and a mass of slime-covered green tentacles started to come out. I could only think that I'd seen enough hentai to know where this was going, as a joke, but this wasn't the time. Using what strength I had, I pulled back the hammer of my pistol and rammed it into the beast's mass of tentacles. The blade on the front burned the creature, causing it to pull away, but I fired a single bullet into its mouth before it could distance itself.

The creature writhed in pain, slamming its fist down beside me, as it faded into ashen dust with a bone-curdling howl. Elysif ran up to me, reaching into her bag as she did. "Please be okay," she said in a semi-panicked voice, as she grabbed a small vial from her bag and dumped the contents into my mouth. It tasted like grape cough syrup for some reason. She then started chanting as I swallowed the liquid. My body felt lighter, but everything still hurt. Once she had finished her chant, Elysif looked me over and then stood up.

"I'll be right back. Don't move," she said before running off towards Scott and the other Willowisp. Okay, I'll just stay here… slowly dying from internal bleeding, I guess. I felt like she was making a joke, because I did not want to move, even if I could.

The forest was calm now, peaceful even. I looked up at the sky because that was all I could do. It was nice. I lay there hoping Scott was okay, and that Elysif would return to make sure I had survived. But it didn't seem like it would play out the way I thought it would. For some reason, my train of thought was disturbed by a strange sensation. My body felt as if it were falling, probably because I was. I, along with the dirt under me, sunk down in a cave—of all things. Dust clouded my vision as I lay there, trying to get a grasp on reality, when I heard a voice.

"Nice of you to DROP in," the voice said. Was that a fucking pun?

Scott was fading in and out of consciousness as he was struck again and again by the Willowisp's humongous hand. He had been successful in dispatching one of the Willowisps with ease using a surprise tactic, but was put near out of commission by another. All he could do was lay there and take it. The last thing Scott could make out before getting separated was Lou getting attacked by the last Willowisp… so it didn't look like he was going to be able to help him anytime soon. As for Elysif, he expected her to come looking for him. Though he also worried very little about her. Not because he didn't care, but because he knew she would be fine no matter what came at her.

Scott desperately tried to get up, only to see a big black lanky fist slamming him down once more. He did what he could to roll to the right, and just barely avoided the attack. Once he had rolled onto his stomach, Scott was able to get a slight amount of footing and push himself up in a sprint. He was only able to run a few meters, though, before the Willowisp was on top of him just like before, ready to strike… or at least it was.

Scott focused every ounce of strength into his legs to jump forward with monumental speed. Twisting his body in mid-air, he planted his feet on the side of a tree trunk. Attempting the same maneuver again, he shot off like a bullet at the Willowisp, shattering the side of the tree he launched from. Shrapnel exploded out behind him, and with several large cracks, the tree started to fall toward him and the Willowisp. Scott slammed into the Willowisp's thin rib cage, causing it to stumble back, but it still didn't fall. Rather, the Willowisp grabbed Scott and chucked him to the side, sending him flying into the dirt and crashing into the uprooted roots of a tree.

At this moment, Elysif had run up to see the tree falling towards the area in which the Willowisp stood. Knowing what to do, Elysif lobbed an explosive-filled with iron dust at the creature. The bottle smashed against the ground, and its contents exploded in a fiery blue roar. The iron, however, wasn't spread on the Willowisp, but around it. Wherever it would attempt to step toward it would be met with the painful sting of iron against its Fae skin. It was trapped, and at the perfect moment too. The tree collapsed directly on top of the Willowisp, crushing it whilst avoiding Scott.

"Scott, are you okay?" Elysif yelled, running towards his body. Scott slowly raised his arm, giving a thumbs up, before his arm dropped limp a moment later. She got over to his now limp body, and quickly rolled him onto his back. All he could do was give her a wry smile.

"I could use a drink now," Scott said with a light chuckle.

"No, you may not have a drink yet. If I gave you anything other than this potion, you could die." Elysif said, pouring the contents of a vial similar to the one she had given to Lou into Scott's mouth. As he drank it, he gave her a sour face with regret.

"In the words of Lou, YOU SUCK!" he stated angrily as she began her chant.

Once she was done, she gave him a stern look and said, "You know, I didn't have to help you?"

"But you did, and that's what makes you a good person," Scott said with a smile that seemed genuine, but Elysif felt otherwise.

"Don't try and sound like you're giving some piece of wisdom when you're sober, because I know you're just giving me crap," Elysif replied with an annoyed and pouty voice.

"I know. I'm sorry. Is Lou okay, though?" he groaned as he painfully sat up.

"He should be fine, I gave him the same thing I gave you and he was breathing when I left him."

"Good, now help me up so we can get back over there," Scott said, holding out his arm. With a nod, Elysif reached underneath his arm and lifted him up to the point where he could stand. While lending him her shoulder, the two stumbled back towards Lou. As they stumbled back, out of the corner of his eye, Scott could have sworn he saw a human-like figure shuffle behind a distant tree, but he decided that it was nothing to worry about.


***


Gauging what I could, I looked around to see where the voice had come from, but the dust in the air was making it hard to see. I had very little grasp on the situation, but as far as I could tell, I wasn't alone, and I was in a lot of pain. I took in a big breath, but was met with dust in my lungs, making me release a series of violent coughs before I heard the voice speak again. "Are you alright?" Looking to where the voice had come from a second time, I saw, through the dusty air, a small man.

He had a rather large beard and stood roughly a meter tall. The hair on his head was matted back in semi-dreads, and his eyes looked old and tired. In one hand, he held a quill, and in the other, a pipe that was still smoking. His clothes consisted of only a light-green robe which was tied at the waist, and drooped down just a bit past his knees.

"Who... are... you?" I asked between coughs, as the dust settled more. Looking around, I realized I was laying in what looked to be a living room. There was a lit fireplace behind the man and a few cushioned chairs. To the right of the man, was a large wooden desk dressed in humble but decorative etchings in which several stacks of papers lay. The walls were stained oak, and had many different carvings in them that made the room seem like it was moving when you walked through it. To add to the effect, there were several candles whose shadows turned the room into an effigy of living wood.

"I believe I should be asking you the same question. I mean, you did fall through the roof of my home," the man said.

"Fair enough, I am Lou Barrett," I said, sitting up from the rubble. Elysif's potion seemed to have worked as my pain had subsided for the most part.

"Rubin, Rubin Reuben, but most people who know me well, call me Rubin or Rubin squared. I am the last of the Dwarves… Or rather, I was." he said, puffing out his chest proudly, and then taking a puff off his pipe. "Now, how did you come to fall through the roof of my abode?"

"I, along with two others, were sent by the Table to deal with some Willowisps. Some had been attacking beings that are on good terms with Table. We ended up fighting some of them on top of your house and I fell through," I explained with an apologetic look.

He took in a deep breath and sighed. "I'm surprised, I didn't think my Willowisps would ever attack anyone unless they were a threat to me or the village of Haringey," Rubin said as if he didn't entirely believe me.

"Wait, they are your Willowisps?" I asked in shock.

"Yes, and I want nothing more than to live the rest of my life here in peace, so I would suggest that you not consider me an enemy. I am a pacifist of sorts, so I don't believe that violence is necessary unless in self-defense," Rubin said, giving me a hand. When our hands touched though, I felt a shock, and with it, the feeling that we had already met before.

"Are you… perhaps a Time Lord?" he asked, shocked. I guess he felt the same thing I did.

"A what?" I asked in surprise, standing up. He looked rather excited for a second, then looked around as if afraid of who might hear what he was about to say.

"A Time Lord! Did you come to this timeline from the future?" he asked in a somewhat hushed voice.

"I mean, I did come here from the future, but I don't know anything about Time Lords, unless they travel around in police boxes or with microwaves," I said jokingly, as I dusted myself off. He stared at me like I was an idiot.

"Of course, you wouldn't know anything about them, you haven't met me yet. Well, you could have also met THEM, but I doubt that they would do so unless it amused them to do so, " Rubin said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Huh?"

"Let me explain myself a little better. I used to be a Time Lord. Time Lords have the ability to travel to any time period before they became a Time Lord, though it takes a lot of practice and focus. However, if you do travel to the time that you became a Time Lord, you revoke your Time Lord abilities, and a new one is chosen in the distant future. You are probably my successor," Rubin explained.

"I have one question. Did Diogenes really claim a plucked chicken was a man?" I asked as soon as I comprehended what he had just said.

"He did, and it was hilarious, but are you perhaps mentally challenged? I would have thought you might ask a much more important, and well… sophisticated question than that. At the very least, I thought you would have questioned it more," Rubin said with poorly hidden judgement.

"I mean, I have other questions and, at this point, not much surprises me. I mean, I found out that monsters and magic are real after I suddenly ended up in the year 1888 one day. More importantly, could you maybe stop your Willowisps? My friends might still be fighting them," I said.

"Oh, sorry," he said before snapping his fingers. "They shouldn't be hostile to anyone around here anymore."

"Thanks," I said nonchalantly.

"Now, you probably had an easier time becoming a Time Lord than I did. I fell into a river and the next thing I knew I was in Nigeria in 1742. It wasn't painful, but I did witness my entire species get killed before falling into the river… At least, I thought I did," he stated, rubbing his chin.

"That sounds awful. I just sort of wandered through an alleyway on my way to work," I replied, a little horrified.

"It's fine. Despite me saying that I am the last of the dwarves, it is technically incorrect since that was in my original timeline. Now, there are still plenty of us."

"Oh… Now, how do I control my Time Lord powers? If I am one, then I would like to learn to time travel. It sounds fun," I asked, rubbing my hands together eagerly.

"I don't know," Rubin stated.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" I asked, a little angry now.

"I mean, it's different for everyone, I had to meditate for five years before I could time travel the first time. The second time took me significantly less time, as the more you do it, the easier it gets. The one before me was an African Warlord. He would cut through time and space with his blade and just walk through it. The one before him, a Mongolian farmer, used Psychedelic mushrooms to send him to the past. It is all a matter of who you are and how you discover doing it. I have tried for years to figure out how it all works, but I only became more confused," Rubin said with a defeated tone, before scratching his head.

"But do you maybe have some tips? Like, something that all the Time Lords you knew had in common with using their power?" I asked, hoping for something to kickstart this ability.

"I don't, and you are incorrect about one thing," Rubin said. This confused me a bit, because I couldn't think of anything that I said being wrong.

"What?"

"I've only met my predecessor. Everything else was told to me by the one who gives us these powers. It's some kind of unspoken rule that you can only meet the one chosen before you. I'm not entirely sure how it works, but I have also found that you cannot change anything yourself that would affect what you have already done. The universe will take what you have changed and return it to its original state so that your personal future isn't affected," Rubin explained.

"So then, how would I be able to change the past?" I asked, because that sounded like bullshit. What is the point of time travel if you can't change anything?

"You can change the past, so long as it doesn't affect what you have already done. Thus, if it will not alter anything that you have already done, then it can be changed. You do have the ability to go to any point in time in which you already exist, but your past self will fall asleep when you do," he said in the same way a science teacher would explain the basic laws of physics.

"Okay, that makes a little more sense. But doesn't that mean that there are several places in time that cannot be changed no matter what?"

He rubbed his chin for a second then finally said, "Yes, major events cannot be changed. However, I have been able to alter them in ways that don't matter. For example, I stole half of the Library of Alexandria before it burned down, and stored them in several safe places. I didn't change the event since it burned down anyways, but I saved quite a bit of the material that was destroyed. Though I have found that if your future self does something in the past, then it is set in stone. You will eventually do what your future self did. Even if you know what you will do and decide not to, the universe will make it happen," Rubin answered in more detail than I needed.

"Then doesn't that mean that everything is pre-ordained?" I asked as I came to a concerning realization.

"I don't know," he said, sitting down in his chair and taking a puff of his pipe. From above, in the distance, I heard Scott call out.

"Lou?" he yelled.

"Where are you, Lou?" I heard Elysif call as well.

"I'm down here!" I yelled back. Looking up, I saw them both hobble up and peek over the side of the hole.

"Nice place," Scott said with a pained wince as he eyed the room.

"Thank you," Rubin replied, taking another puff of his pipe.

"Who's the Dwarf?" Elysif asked.

"Scott, Elysif, meet Rubin Reuben. Rubin Reuben, meet Scott and Elysif," I said, introducing the three from my seat atop the caved-in roof.

"Wait, is that the same Rubin who's been controlling the Willowisps?" Scott asked, as Elysif helped him climb down the hole. Elysif then climbed down behind him.

"Well, yes and no. According to him, he has been creating the Willowisps, but he hasn't attacked anyone. He has apparently only used them to protect this area and get groceries... it seems" I corrected him.

"And you believe him?" Scott asked me.

"Well, yes," I replied honestly.

"Okay, then. Mr. Reuben, do you know who might be using Willowisps that originated in this area to attack monster settlements north of London?" Scott asked with a semi-judgmental glare.

"Wait, Scott, you just believe him like that just because Lou said so?" Elysif asked, a little confused.

"Not exactly, but I will give him the benefit of the doubt," Scott Replied, looking at Rubin Reuben.

Once Elysif and Scott had climbed down the hole and off the rubble along with myself, Rubin snapped his fingers and the rubble began floating in the air. It held itself up to the place it had been before and completely healed itself. We all stood in shock. There was no magic that we knew of, nor that Iscariot had explained to us, that could do anything like that. At least, not without a magic tool. "Sorry if that surprised you, I just would rather not have the draft. It is getting quite chilly at night now that it is Autumn," Rubin Reuben said nonchalantly.

"Okay, so you have proven yourself to be powerful. Though that doesn't prove that you didn't attack a settlement," Scott said.

"How about I put it to you this way, some of my Willowisps have gone missing. I destroyed them once I had realized that they were no longer under my control, but it can take days sometimes before I realize it."

"So what you're saying is that it was your Willowisps but you lost control of them? That seems really convenient," Elysif replied.

"You would think, but as you saw before, I can control things like the Willowisps easily. For me to lose control of them means that something or someone fairly powerful is removing my control over them," Rubin stated.

"That does make sense," Scott replied.

"W-wait, how does that make sense?" Elysif stammered.

"I mean, it does seem possible," I chimed in.

"If you are telling the truth then where do you think we should look for this person?" Scott asked.

"Let me ask one of the fairies around here if they know?" Rubin said, and with a whistle, a pot in the corner of the room with a single tulip in it bloomed completely. From the flower, a creature no taller than my hand emerged. It had two sets of wings and the body of a small woman. The Fae flew over to Rubin, and landed on his hand gracefully.

"What can I do for you, Rubin?" it asked in such a deep manly voice that it surprised all but Rubin.

"Could you ask around to see where my missing Willowisps have gone? I can't quite remember where it was," Rubin replied. The Fae nodded and flew off with an annoying flutter.

"Well that might take a while, would any of you care for refreshments?" Rubin asked us cheerfully.

"Alcohol, if you have any," Scott said. Both Elysif and I looked at him, before him suddenly coughing up some blood and crumpling to his knees.

""Scott"" we both cried, rushing to his side. I myself was still in pain, but whatever Elysif had given me had relieved me of most of it as well as healed my major wounds. Scott, on the other hand, wasn't doing so well. I wasn't sure, but I assumed that Elysif gave him the same stuff.

"I'm fine, it's just my body reacting to me using my enhancements. I usually have at least nine minutes before my body starts to reject itself, but I haven't used it in a while, so I guess it's less time now." Scott replied, before hacking up some more blood.

Rubin toddled over to us and placed his hand on Scott's head. Before either I or Elysif could stop him, Scott's body started to glow a faint blue. "I repaired some of your organs, however, enhancing your body with magic is reckless and stupid. Why you would ever do such a thing, I don't know. Now, I shall prepare some drinks," Rubin said, letting go of Scott's head before heading out through the doorway on the left side of the room.

"I think I trust him now," Elysif said.

"Is that all it took for you to trust him? You're growing soft," Scott said with a smug grin.

"Oh, shut up. You were trusting him from the moment Lou said we should," she rebutted with an annoyed tone.

"No, I gave him the benefit of the doubt," he corrected with the same smug look, before groaning in a fit of pain.

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms. Once I realized that Rubin was gone, I turned to Scott with a serious look.

"Now, Scott, I want to know about these enhancements and what they're doing to your body?" I demanded. He gave me a look as if he didn't want to talk about it. However, I wanted to know about it now, and he could tell that I would keep asking. He looked up, as some of the blood he had coughed up started to dry on his five-o-clock shadow-bearing chin. Seeing that I still wasn't backing down, he let out a loud and heavy sigh. I was worried, and I knew that Elysif was only going to tell me enough to satisfy my curiosity for a while.

"Before my wife passed away, I was as normal as you. I mean, I was a lot more reliable in a fight, but still. When she was killed, however, I didn't know what to do. Revenge was the only thing I wanted, so I begged to Iscariot to turn my body into a magic tool through an experiment he had mentioned to me before. He was hesitant, and told me that, if I did this, I might die afterwards if I didn't focus on controlling the enhancements properly," Scott explained with a sorrowful quiver. He looked like he was having a hard time even saying it.

"It was such a simple choice, because I didn't plan on living. I was going to kill everyone who could have been involved in Silva's murder and die along with them. In less than a single day, I committed genocide on every werewolf in London. There are only a few packs left in the world, and each one barely rises in numbers above one hundred. I was ready to die for my act painfully, but instead, I continue to live and suffer for my sins," Scott continued.

"Strangely, I felt as if my wife wasn't going to let me die that easily. I ended up passed out in an alley, and awoke to whiskey being poured into my mouth by a beggar. I was drunk, and I had no control over my enhancements, but I could still function as a person. After hobbling to Iscariot's home, he told me that the alcohol was causing me to have barely enough control of motor function to move, but was blocking me from the enhancements. It didn't make any sense to Iscariot then, and it still doesn't. He assumes that he messed up the runes in some way," Scott continued explaining. I had to agree with the assessment that it didn't make any sense, but I wasn't going to complain about something keeping him alive. Is this why Elysif and Iscariot are okay with his habits?

"Iscariot had never seen anything like it, and was surprised to even see me alive, but urged me to drink from sunrise till sundown as it seemed to work. That wasn't very hard for me, as I was heartbroken due to my wife dying, so I drank and drank. I later learned how to control my mental state while drunk, but only to a certain degree, and I was trained to be able to fight even when disoriented. Thus, the shift for me wasn't that difficult, and that's the whole story. Happy now?" Scott said, relinquishing his story to me. I was somewhat satisfied, but at the same time, disappointed that it wasn't more interesting.

"I brought refreshments, would anyone like a biscuit?" Rubin asked, as he came back into the room holding a tray covered in snacks and beverages. He set it on the desk and then brought the bottle of alcohol to Scott, who gladly took it and downed half of it. The man must have a liver of steel. Rubin then turned to us and offered tea, we accepted, and talked for a while. During which, Rubin told the other two about how I might be a Time Lord. They were surprised to say the least, but willing to listen.

"So Lou is a Time Lord?" Elysif asked, not entirely convinced.

"Perhaps? Although, my only proof is that he is from the future and that strange feeling I felt when we touched hands. It was awfully familiar," Rubin answered before biting down on a biscuit. The crumbs from it fell down into his beard, to be found at a later time, I assumed.

"I have been with the Table a long time and I have never heard of a Time Lord. If there was any knowledge of someone who could travel through time at will then it would have been classified as a top-level threat." Scott interjected.

"I have a theory about that. The reason I believe that Time Lords can only meet their predecessor is that when a Time Lord returns to their original time period, they switch to another dimensional plane. This may also be why history is altered so dramatically between Time Lords. For example, when I traveled through the past, the Table was only a small group and most so-called mythical creatures had been killed off by my time. However, when I returned to my time period and gave up my ability to traverse through time, the Table was massive and mythical creatures were everywhere, as they were in the days of old," Rubin explained.

"So what you're saying is that something I do as a Time Lord will fuck up a ton of shit and create a semi-alternate reality?" I asked.

"Yes, to put it bluntly. I attempted to save my people from extinction, as I am the only survivor of a massive attack, but failed due to the unspoken rules of time. Somehow, when I revoked my powers, my people were thriving again, as if nothing ever happened. This is why I believe that we switch dimensional planes. So in some aspects, you saved my people without realizing it, and that is something I am very thankful for. Thus, I wouldn't say as you had phrased it, fucked up a ton of shit, but rather beat your own path," Rubin said.

"This is still a lot to take in," I said, setting my biscuit down and rubbing the bridge of my nose.

"I understand. Take your time to figure things out. Trust me, you have plenty," Rubin said, before picking up his tea cup and taking a small sip. He pulled it away quickly, jerking back a little from his lips being burnt. Nearly spilling the tea onto the floor. "Bloody hot bastard," he spoke in a hushed voice. Elysif smiled, but only I could see it from where she was hiding it behind her tea cup. Scott, however, was already drunk and chuckled out loud for everyone to hear.

Once Scott finished chuckling, Rubin gave him an annoyed look. I don't think they are going to be getting along anymore. Seeing as I was pretty tired, I laid my head on the table, which was kinda rude, but no one here could blame me. Being beaten up like that hurt, and then, after I was somewhat healed, I am told that I can probably time travel at will. I know I took the news fairly easily when he first told me, but I didn't exactly have the time to process it. Now I did, and it felt like a burden. I didn't want this. Even if it was awesome to be able to time travel, I didn't want to risk screwing anything up.

Scott basically didn't care from what it seemed, but he was starting to get drunk, so I didn't really know. Elysif, however, was intrigued and cautious as to what could be done with this information, from what I could tell by her expression. It was the same expression she made when she was mixing dangerous substances for some form of medicine. Before I could really ask either of them for their thoughts, the fairy that had appeared before flew back into the room. It got up in Rubin's face to get his attention, then got up to his ear where it spoke to him. When the fairy was done, he nodded his head, and she flew off to the flower she had appeared from before, and closed the petals over her as if it were her little safe space.

"What did it say?" I asked.

"Oberon has said that a Fae giant is resting on the edge of the woods to the south and could be powerful enough to relieve my Willowisps of their slave enchantments," Rubin replied. Though he didn't sound so sure about it himself.

"Wait, wait, wait, did you say Oberon? As in, one of the Elder Ones and king of the Fae?" Scott asked, sitting up. Unlike before, when he seemed a bit more carefree, he was ready and attentive.

"That's not possible, he's been missing for over a hundred years," Elysif stated.

"Actually, Oberon and I have tea every now and then. We are on quite good terms, he just lives in the land of the Fae. No one except those whom he has accepted can enter his sanctuary. That's why everyone thinks he's missing," Rubin corrected.

"Well, that's another surprise that I didn't need today. Let's go kids. Thank you for the hospitality, Mr. Reuben," Scott said, as he stood up with the bottle Rubin had set out for him. "May I buy the rest of this bottle off you?"

"You may keep it as a gift, but please try speaking with the Fae instead of fighting it, as a way of payment," Rubin said.

"I will try that first, but if it attacks us, then I will have no other choice," Scott replied, as he started for the door. We got up and shook Rubin's hand as we scooted past him after Scott. Rubin showed us the door, and once outside of it, we were in the forest above the room. We had somehow appeared out of a tree.

"So, Scott, are we gonna go talk to this Fae that he spoke of?" Elysif asked.

"No, I am in no shape to fight if we need to, and neither is Lou. Plus, I'm tired. I want to get some sleep, and I want some more booze," Scott said, before turning and hiking back towards the village. Then, remembering that he still had the bottle Rubin had given him in hand, he began drinking from it.

"Lou, come on, we could do it. Let's go talk to this thing," she turned to me eagerly.

"No, I agree with Scott. I am in a lot of pain. Your potion only did so much for my wounds," I replied, agreeing with Scott.

"Ugh, fine," Elysif groaned, giving in.

WilloWisp & Faerie


Sela


Rubin Reuben

From behind them, a man watched in hiding. He was sitting behind a bush and cautiously watching them leave. It was Compton, and once he saw that they were out of sight, he stood up and began following them again. Compton was feeling more and more guilty about having to follow Scott as this mission continued, but he knew that there must have been a reason for him to have been given this assignment.

To be honest, the more he followed Scott, the more his gut told him he should be following his new partner instead. Lou seemed innocent, but something about him gave Compton chills, and this whole time traveler mystery was making it worse. "I should just go back to headquarters… That said, the Head Consul was pretty mad that I broke the communication tool. I should just stay here until they're done with this Willowisp business," Compton said to himself, as he waded through the woods.

"I wonder why they even wanted me to follow Scott? He is the least likely to betray the Table out of anyone... Mordred knows that, so why do they think he could possibly be in contact with Sir Micheal? Her obsession with that man is insufferable," Compton continued talking to himself as he had become accustomed to. The questions kept piling up in his mind, and they wouldn't stop. It made him even question his loyalty to the Table. The Table well knew that all of his friends, other than Scott, had died. Yet, they had ordered him, of all people, to spy on Scott.

Compton was ready to just turn around and leave, but as he considered doing so, he heard a twig snap from behind him. Turning around, Compton saw a Willowisp crouched over a few meters away. As the Fae-human chimera turned to look at him, Compton noticed something. The eyes weren't yellow like the ones that Scott, Lou, and Elysif fought earlier, but instead, were crimson red. Its jaw unhinged with a roar akin to a banshee, before charging at him.

"Just my luck," Compton said with weary eyes and an emotionless voice, before dropping a long dagger attached to a chain from his right arm and summoning a magic shield to his left. Attempting to block the Willowisp's attack with his shield, he braced himself, but the force of the Willowisp's strike sent Compton flying back. As he flew backward, Compton swung the chain up to grab onto a tree branch, and swing himself into the maze of branches above. The Willowisp, baffled, searched around for him as he hid in the leaves.

Compton silently crouched on a tree branch and swung the chain around a few times for momentum before releasing it towards the Willowisp. It wrapped itself around the creature's neck but sadly didn't cause the Willowisp to burn, as the chain was made of silver, and not iron. Pulling on the chain, Compton used it to jump onto the Willowisp's back. It flailed around to try and knock him off to no avail, as Compton had a strong grip on the chain around its neck. Reaching down, Compton pulled an iron dagger from his belt, and stabbed the creature in its left eye. The cold-skinned creature flailed some more, before falling to the ground and turning to dust.

"That was quite annoying," Compton said out loud, to no one but himself. Picking up the iron dagger, he returned it to its sheathe, as well as started reeling in the chain which he examined for damages. "What a pain. Now the chain's all covered in mud."


***


Back at the inn, we said our hellos in a nonchalant manner, which ticked off the innkeeper a little. It didn't matter, though, we were in a serious amount of pain. Elysif, however, kept a big smile on her face, and even apologized to the innkeeper for our so-called rude behavior. I wasn't complaining though, because as Scott and I trudged up the stairs to our rooms, I heard Elysif order food to be brought up to us. She was nicer than she wanted to let on.

Returning to my room, I made my way to the bed, and lowered myself down with a few winces and grunts. The outside of my body was fine, my insides, however, were still healing. Whatever Elysif gave me had stopped the bleeding, but that didn't mean I was healed. I guess this is twice now that Elysif has prevented me from dying so far. Even if she is a doctor of sorts, she will hold it over me till she dies. Or possibly, till I die. Rubin never mentioned if I could be killed as a Time Lord, did he? I have to assume that I will die if I am killed, then.

After I had closed my eyes for a bit, I was awoken by a knock at the door. Looking at my watch, it read 9:34 PM. "Come in," I said, before sitting up on the side of my bed. Rubbing my eyes, I did a little stretching of my arms as Elysif opened the door. She was holding a plate of what looked like corned beef and cabbage. "Sorry, I fell asleep," I said to her as she entered.

"You are fine. How are your wounds feeling?" she asked as she set the plate on the corner table.

"I still feel like shit, but I am going to be fine, thanks to you," she looked a bit flustered for a second, then got a serious look on her face that started to fade.

"Do you really believe that you might be a Time Lord or whatever Rubin called it?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I… don't know. If it is true, then I would rather do nothing with this power. It would be too dangerous to use. I could mess up the lives of so many people," I said, rubbing my forehead.

"I don't think that is necessarily true. No matter who you are or what you do, someone will end up suffering because of the decisions you make. All of our choices have an impact. Even if your intentions are good, or if it helps someone, it will ultimately affect someone you don't see in a negative way. My advice to you would be to do what you can for the people in front of you, because that's all you can do," she said with a caring and understanding look.

"Elysif, I can't deny that, but if I mess up the past, then I could make everyone I know forget about me, or worse, get them killed," I replied with what felt like a logical assumption.

"Did you forget what Rubin said? No matter what you do, if your past self has done it, then it is fated to happen. Thus, whatever you are doing now, will always have happened," she said, getting up. "You should rest some more. I brought you some food if you want it, and don't worry about Scott, he is half drunk, half asleep in his room," she said, before stepping out the door and closing it.

Man, I feel like she has the only logical brain cell in this group sometimes. She did, however, get me thinking about this whole time travel thing. If I could control it, then I could stop that knight from killing Mordred's father. Perhaps, I could also stop Scott's wife from getting killed. I wondered if that was even possible. Maybe I should ask Rubin before we leave?

For now, I just wanted to rest, so I got up and ate the plate of food Elysif brought me. Eventually, I laid back down in my bed for the night. It wasn't easy though, because now I had a lot on my mind. I had no idea what was going to happen, but the thought of it gave me an uneasy feeling. It was as if someone was pulling the strings for my entire life. The thought of it made me angry. To think that someone or something could be doing that. Though this was a pointless thought that would disappear as my eyes grew heavier and I fell into a deep sleep.


***


I awoke to see the stars, not above me, but all around me. Looking around, as if I was in a dream, I noticed that there wasn't anything here but the stars, or so I thought. "Beautiful isn't it?" I heard a melodious voice say. Looking around to see that behind me, was a small child, a girl... or a boy, I couldn't tell. It had long ethereal hair on one side of its head, and short hair on the other. The child wore a plain Greek-style himation and had eyes that could only be described as a reflection of the stars, its bare feet standing upon what looked to be a pool of reflective water, producing ripples with every slight shift. Looking down, I saw that I too was standing on this pool. Strangely, neither the child nor I were being reflected on the surface of the water.

"Who are you?" I asked. The being gave me a devilish grin, and sat down cross-legged where it was standing.

"You could say I am your power, or the power of all Time Lords, as you have heard them called," the child said, as it rocked back and forth in a carefree manner. It was difficult to gauge the child's expressions or even motivations. I didn't even get a name out of that answer.

"That doesn't really answer my question," I replied, not exactly amused by the proclamation. The child gave me an annoyed scowl in return.

"Fine, you want me to give you a name? You can call me… Sela," the child said.

"Sela? Is that your real name?" I asked, not entirely believing the child.

"Of course, it's not my full name. Telling you that would be wrong. It is the shortened version of my true name. That is all you need to know," Sela interrupted.

"So, what is this place, Sela?" I asked, changing the subject. All around me, the lights of various stars glittered in the distance of this place. Out of reach, yet so close to the being before me.

"Nowhere, yet, everywhere. Albeit this is my realm, this is like a dream to you, which is why you're so calm. I've learned that dreams are the best place to commune with mortals, because when dreaming, most common sense is thrown out the window. There is only logic and emotions here. This is still a realm of existence, though; my existence, specifically," Sela replied.

"Why are you a child, if you don't mind answering?" I asked. It just seemed odd for some reason.

"I am what you subconsciously believe I am. My true form is unknown, except to me. Every Time Lord has a different idea of me. The dwarf saw me as akin to the old storyteller mentioned in Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, the Warlord believed me to be an ancient dragon, the farmer believed me to be the same as the sun and moon, and you imagine me to be that of a carefree and deviously innocent child. That is all," Sela explained with a bit of a crass tone.

"If you are here, does that mean you wish to explain how I can use these time travel abilities?" I assumed out loud.

Sela bellowed with laughter to the point that the being almost fell over. "That is a good joke. You can figure that shit out on your own. I am only here to explain that I only do what I believe is interesting. Lending people my power is done at random to keep me entertained, so don't think you're some chosen one or anything. I did make the mistake of giving my power to Rubin, though, as he did practically nothing with his gift, and it got so boooooring," Sela said in a ticked-off fashion. It was like I was hearing someone complain about their job through a child's mouth.

"Okay, well, if you want something interesting, then why don't you show me how to use these powers?" I said, trying to get something out of this.

"No. In the time that you've been in the past, you have done so much interesting stuff without these powers that I just want to see what happens," Sela replied smugly.

"Well, then answer this. Can I stop people from dying if I haven't been there before?" I asked.

Sela got up and started to pace. After a few seconds of pondering, Sela answered, "No. Only I have that ability, and I would have to erase the timeline beyond that to keep Rag's off my ass."

"Oh…"

"... However, if you can do it without changing anything that you've already experienced in the past, then yes. For example, if someone's body disappeared after they died, then you could go back, fake their death, and bring them to your current time. This wouldn't affect the timeline in the slightest, as nothing was technically changed," Sela stated.

"So you're saying that I could save King Arthur and Scott's wife?" I asked excitedly.

"No, I'm pretty sure that nothing can be done about them," Sela said, raining on my parade.

"..."

"..."

Sela paraded over to me and patted my head in the most annoying way possible. "There, there, child. Do you want a cookie?" the child-like being asked with a condescending and slightly mocking voice.

With a disappointed tone, I asked, "Do I look like a child?"

"No, but you act like one," Sela said, obviously mocking me. That little shit.

"Can I just wake up now, if you're not actually going to tell me anything?"

"Well, I could, if you can beat me in a game of chess."

"... fine," I said, giving in. This Sela child is such an ass. With a wave of Sela's hand, a chess board appeared floating over top of the pool in between us. I sat down opposite to Sela as they made the first move.

"You know, as a thank you for humouring me, I'll give you a hint. Imagine the time and place, and really think about it," Sela said, sticking their tongue out in a mocking fashion. We then played chess for what felt like several hours… I lost every game.

"Well, I guess it's about time you woke up," Sela said whilst standing up and stretching. The child clapped their hands and I began falling through the watery pool below me. I fell into my bed with such force that I was launched out of the bed itself and onto the floor with a crash. Behind me, I heard a woman yelling but I was too shaken up from face-planting on the floor to recognize who it was.

Lifting up my head over the edge of the bed, I saw Elysif sitting on the floor like she had jumped backward and landed on her butt. Behind her was Scott, who was sitting scrunched up in a chair with a half-empty bottle in his arms. I stood up and rubbed the back of my neck before asking, "What are you two doing in here?"

"We were worried because you fell asleep and hadn't woken up in nearly two days. We tried waking you up, but nothing worked," Elysif replied, as she stood up and dusted herself off.

"Was I really asleep for two days?!" I asked in disbelief as I stood up.

"Yep. Elysif refused to leave your side the whole time," Scott said from the corner, before he unscrunched himself from his ball and yawned real loudly.

"I did not!" she yelled at Scott, unable to hide her embarrassment. "I was simply waiting for him to kick the bucket so I could dissect him."

"Elysif, we have been over this, you cannot dissect me," I replied as I meandered over to where I had set my coat.

"Actually, she and I agreed that if you die, then I could get your liver to replace mine," Scott said with a tired, matter-of-fact tone.

"And you didn't think to include me in that discussion?" I asked presumptuously.

"We didn't think you would mind, since you would be dead. You wouldn't really be using it for anything anyways," Elysif said as if it was no big deal. I disagreed

"Well, to change the subject, I am starving," I said, throwing on my coat.

"Sounds good to me," Scott replied.

"I feel like I could go for something," Elysif agreed. We spent the rest of the day relaxing and enjoying each other's company. There was plenty to talk about but we didn't want to talk about anything work-related, so we spent our evening playing cards and discussing the comings and goings of our normal lives. Ha, normal my ass! We are nowhere near normal, even in our everyday life.


***


Outside the window of the inn, Compton sat with a relaxed gaze on the three. He had watched as the trio talked, laughed, and enjoyed themselves. Compton wanted that, but at the same time, he was happy. Not for himself, but for Scott. Scott had been a loner ever since Silva had died, and seeing him with people whom he could be himself around was enough to give Compton a warm feeling.

He reminisced over when they were younger. Compton saw him as this smart-ass kid that was always talking to people, never shutting up. He was the only one that tried to actually be his friend, other than Silva, who had taken both him and Scott in. Even though she was only six years older than them, she excelled at everything. Compton only became Scott's friend because Silva wanted them to get along. It felt more "forced" at the time. However, after a few years of working together, they became excellent friends. Even so, Scott would never bring up his life before Silva took him in.

The only thing he ever said was, "my life was meaningless until Silva found me, I owe her everything." Compton never understood why, and he never got an answer from Scott. Even Silva's father didn't know. He only knew that Silva brought him home one day, and she later told her father that she wanted Scott to be her pupil. Since she rarely asked for anything and usually made smart choices, he let it happen. It didn't matter though, after she died, Scott became a loner who only spoke to a few select people for as little time as possible.

Now, he seemed to have friends, and was happy. Compton was just glad he had been able to open up to some people, even if it wasn't himself. "I guess I don't have to watch over you, Scott. You're just enjoying life, and who am I to stop you? I may not trust this Lou Barrett guy, but I can trust you," he said to himself, before standing up and strutting down the cobbled street. "Man, I need to stop talking to myself. The Table's had me working alone for too long."

When the morning came the next day, Elysif and I woke up Scott's lazy ass. We weren't entirely healed, but we were good enough to go meet this Fae. Scott had decided without us that we could handle it, so he could be drunk the whole time. We didn't have any reason to tell him no, so we just accepted it. On another note, I still hadn't told them about my weird dream, but it felt like it was better to not tell them yet. It was far too crazy, even for me. I don't even want to think how crazy it would be for them.

Though, the fact is that I also didn't want to talk about it. The whole thing made me uncomfortable. Even if I wasn't chosen for a specific reason, my life was being manipulated by another being, and that made me want to disappear. Though part of me took comfort in the fact that something was keeping tabs on me. All I could do for now to take my mind off my helplessness was to do my job.

Heading back into the forest, past Rubin's place, and deeper into the woods, we made our way up a long path only used by the Willowisps. As we continued, the trail began to disappear, and a thick fog rolled in. Scott didn't seem to mind, as he trailed in the back, while Elysif was content being between the two of us. I, however, was internally screaming. The place reminded me of a horror game, and I was starting to expect a half-naked pyramid-head person to appear.

We wandered south for a good few hours, and I kept getting the feeling we were lost. Elysif and Scott didn't seem to care though. In fact, they seemed a bit too level-headed at the moment. "So what will this Fae look like?" I asked.

"I don't know. It could look like a tree, an animal, a human, or all three," Scott answered.

"Wait, then how will we know if we found it? We could have passed by it already," Elysif stated.

"Don't know, but this fog isn't helping," Scott replied.

"Do you even know where we are?" I asked.

"Nope," Scott replied.

""..."" Both Elysif and I were a bit surprised by this. However, we quickly realized that we should have expected this from Scott.

"What? You were in front, so I thought you knew where we were going," Scott said with a shrug.

"He does have a point," Elysif said in agreement with his statement. I couldn't help but pinch the bridge of my nose in annoyance.

Elysif looked around for a bit, before speaking again. "That way is south," she finally said, pointing to our right. I didn't have anything else to go off of, so I began roaming in the direction she had pointed without complaint. In retrospect, we should have thought about bringing a compass.

Elysif hiked in the same direction as me, while Scott, who didn't really care where we were going, followed as well. After another hour of hiking, we reached the southern edge of the forest, and there was nothing. Nothing but farmland for as far as the eye could see. Some sheep were scattered in some of the fields, while wheat grew in others, but it was calm. There was no Fae, though, and that was the whole purpose of the entire hike. We were tired, thirsty, and annoyed. Scott was nearly out of booze, and we were all nearly out of water.

Sitting down in the field, feeling defeated, I just pondered what we were even doing. Elysif sort of did the same, and Scott, well, he leaned up against a tree. "Nap time, eh?" Scott asked, as he got comfortable. From his bag, he pulled out a blanket from the inn and wrapped himself in it.

"I got nothing, Scott. We haven't found this thing, and it's not like it's going to just appear out of nowhere," I replied.

"Before you continue speaking, I would look over there," Elysif said, gesturing to the west, before she laid down in the grass. I looked to where she had gestured, and not fifty meters away, was a gigantic creature with a long slender body like a spruce tree, leaning up against an oak tree. I stared in a bit of disbelief as if my eyes were playing tricks on me, but Elysif was right. Getting back up, I began ambling towards it. The closer I got, the more I realized that it looked like some part of a tree. Its head was like that of thicket branches, and its body almost blended into the tree line from this angle.

Just in case, I pulled out my pistol, and pulled the hammer back before placing it in my coat pocket to hide it. "Hello!" I yelled out to it once I was within a few meters of it. Shaking its head, it blinked a few times, before looking around for me. Upon finding me, the creature stared at me intensely. Its eyes shared the colour of the rest of its body, an oak-like brown. However, it seemed to be glossed over with what I assumed was sap.

"Aw, come on! I was just enjoying myself a nap. What do you want?" It asked in a strangely Welsh accent, while making a gesture with its arms that was similar to that of one in disbelief.

Scott, from his resting spot against a tree, raised his bottle in a toasting fashion. That asshole! In response to his toast, I raised my middle finger at him, to which he laughed. Elysif, on the other hand, was resting in the grass, and wasn't paying attention to what I was doing at all. Looking back at the creature, who was rather annoyed by my presence, "I hate to bother you, but do you happen to know why the Willowisps in the area are turning evil and attacking at random?" I asked a bit too reluctantly.

"Well, you are a bother, and yes, I know why they are turning 'evil,' as you say. They keep attacking me while I'm napping, so I have to break the control seals on them. Then, they go to do what they are originally meant for," The Fae replied haughtily.

"Well, could you not? They are there to protect the area from dangerous creatures, and you are napping right on the edge of their jurisdiction," I replied with a bit of a timid but firm tone.

"Do you think I care? I am doing them justice. Those things aren't meant to protect, so I allow them to do what is in their proper nature," the Fae said in the same haughty manner as before.

"Would it be easier to convince you if I told you that their master is a personal friend of Oberon, king of the Fae?" I asked, figuring that this creature wouldn't want to piss off the King of the Fae.

"...Well, that does change things. Look, I am only napping here because I want out of Oberon's domain for a while. I could move to another forest if you would like that," the Fae said, changing his voice to that of a more frightened one.

"That would be great," I replied, thankful that it could be reasoned with. This was easier than I thought it would be.

"Like hell I would do that!" The creature yelled angrily, as it swung its bark-covered fist at me. I fell backwards to dodge it, but slammed my back against the fencing that lined the field. "We Fae are very protective of our space, and I have claimed this plot for myself. Even the sheep stay away from this area. Did you think I would just let you kick me off, just like that?"

"Fine, then, Plan B." I pulled my pistol and fired at the creature's torso. Missing my mark, the bullet hit its arm, doing nothing but minorly burn a hole through it.

"Did you think some petty weapon like that would do anything to me? You must be an idiot, boy," the creature exclaimed proudly as it got up. The dirt below it shifted as if it had rooted its legs into the earth below. Looking back over towards Scott and Elysif for backup, I couldn't believe what I saw. It infuriated me! Scott just raised his bottle as if cheering me on again with a smile, and I think Elysif was asleep. No help from the peanut gallery, then.

Quickly firing another shot at the Fae, the bullet struck it near where its forehead should be, and to my surprise, it stepped back as if staggered. Firing again, I was able to hit the left eye by pure luck. It wailed in pain, gripping its eye and allowing me to run up close in hopes of shooting it again while it was distracted. Sadly, I was instead knocked back by the creature's large fist.

Landing beyond the fencing on my side, I slowly got up with a fair bit of discomfort. My body began to feel heavy, and as I stood, a coughing fit overcame me. With my coughing, much to my surprise, was blood from a now bloody nose. My wounds had yet to fully heal internally, so I was aware that it could happen but it still came as a shock. As I tried to stand, my body ached all over, and I was more than scratched up. The muscles in my arms and legs shuddered as if a nerve was pinched. How many bones had I broken? Had I even broken any bones? Did I tear anything? I didn't know. However, the pain had yet to impact me fully from the adrenalin, so I looked over to see the creature regain its composure before releasing a low groaning howl like nothing I had ever heard.

The roots around its feet writhed like snakes. Scott was still sitting against the tree, but he seemed entertained by my fight, rather than worried. I'm glad you have that much faith in me Scott, but I don't think I can win this. Elysif was still lying in the field, probably asleep, and being just as much of a help as Scott at the moment. They were being absolutely useless. I swear, if I survive this, I am so going to chew them out later.

The roots burst through the dirt below it towards me. I didn't know what else to do, so I drew my knife. Then, I had an idea. A stupid one, but it was still an idea. I stabbed the blade into the heel of my shoe so that the grip was sticking out the inside of my shoe. Standing on the hilt with my other foot and just as the roots got within a meter of me, I focused enough to get my knife to float. Rather than just floating, I flew upward before I altered the direction of the knife in order to launch me at the Fae. The creature swung its arm at me like I was a pesky fly, but I dodged midair and fell on its face. Holding on for dear life, I fired the last two bullets into its face at point blank range, and used the knife to propel myself behind the creature in a flipping motion.

I didn't have enough control, though, so I fell in an awkward and incredibly painful position. Behind me, the Fae howled in pain momentarily, before keeling over and slowly fading into dust. I tried standing up, only to cough up more blood and collapse from exhaustion. From somewhere close, I heard footsteps coming toward me. Weakly looking to my right, I could see Scott's lower half sauntering toward me. The only reason I could tell that it was Scott was because of the bottle he carried at his side, though. Upon reaching my tired, and very hurt, body, Scott stood next to my head and crouched down like someone in a boyband cover from the nineties. "You did good, kid. I thought you might die there for a second, but you beat it," he said with an overtly proud tone.

"So much for you thinking I could win, you cunt. Now, are you gonna get Elysif over here to heal me or what?" I said, disgruntled.

"No, she's sleeping, so I'll wait till she wakes up. You'll live for a while," he replied nonchalantly.

"You really are a cunt. Now, wake her up and, if she has a problem with it, she can go fuck herself," I replied, unbearably pissed off.

"You must be in a lot of pain for you to be speaking like that. I'll tell her, though, and you can feel her rage," he said in a half-jokingly.

"Please don't. I'm just suffering from internal damage. I can barely lift a finger, and my entire body feels awful, so you can see why I would be angry," I said, hoping for some remorse.

"Okay, I'll wake her up, but first drink some of this to help with the pain," Scott said, sticking the bottle against my mouth and forcing me to drink it. I couldn't stand it, not because it was booze, but because it was some weird drink I couldn't identify. The aftertaste was awful and it burned badly. I couldn't even figure out what flavors it had.

Once I had drunk some of it, he pulled it away, and began heading over toward Elysif. After a few minutes, I heard the frantic footsteps of someone running over towards me. Looking in the same direction that Scott had come from, I saw Elysif's lower half running to me. She crouched in front of me in the same way Scott did. "That Fae did a number on you, didn't it?" she said with an apathetic tone.

"How is it that within the five minutes it took for me to walk over, talk to it, and kill it, you fell asleep?" I asked with an annoyed and still somewhat angry voice. I knew that this sudden increase in sass was due to my ever-increasing pain, but I probably shouldn't have said that. She just gave me a look that made me think even more so that she didn't exactly appreciate the question.

"I have been walking all day, and unlike you, I haven't been asleep for two days," she stated, aggravated. I felt a little bad for asking, but I felt even worse because my internal organs weren't being fixed.

"Sorry. Now can you stop me from dying a slow and painful death?" I asked, trying to sound as if I wasn't in a bad mood anymore.

"Perhaps," she said, reaching under my head and propping it up. She then grabbed a vial from her bag and after ripping the cork out with her teeth, she put the vial to my lips. It was an awkward feeling, but then she tipped the vial all the way up and basically forced the contents down my throat. It tasted like cat shit, and I wanted to spew it back up, but before I could, Elysif held my mouth closed whilst starting her chant.

Within a few moments, I felt lighter and more agile. When she finished the chant, she looked at me and sighed. "You should be able to get up now, but the damage to your bones from this fight, as well as from the past one with the Willowisps has to heal properly. That medicine can only stop the bleeding and heal some of your less serious wounds. I would give you something stronger like what I gave you and Scott the other day, but those are difficult to make. You don't need it for these kinds of wounds. It will just take some time to recuperate," she said, like any doctor would when talking to a patient.

"If I'm stable, then where are the horses," I said with a light chuckle. For some reason, it felt like the funniest thing to say. To be honest, though, I think that my mind may be a little out there because of blood loss. Elysif looked at me like I was an idiot, before flicking me right in the gut where I assumed the internal damage was, causing me to wince in pain.

"Why would you do that?! I'm still very sore, even with your medicine. You just finished telling me that," I asked with a confused look.

"I assumed that if you're able to make a joke that bad, then you must be fine. If not, then my mistake," she said, putting off the fact that she knew damn well that I was still in pain.

"Anyways, where did Scott go?" I asked. She looked around and realized the same thing as me: he had disappeared.

"Maybe he started heading back already? We should head back, and if he isn't there when we get back, then he'll show up eventually. That man seems to be able to avoid death better than most, so I know he'll be fine," Elysif said as she helped me to my feet. Once she had helped me up, I reached down and pulled the knife from the side of my shoe sole. The shoe would require some mending, but it was a small price to pay for not dying. As I put the knife back in its sheath, I realized that I should probably reload my gun just in case, so I did, as we trudged back.

"How long were you spying on us?" Scott asked as he stepped out from behind a tree behind Compton.

"A while, but I didn't expect you to realize that I was even doing so. How did you figure out I was watching you?" Compton asked calmly, as he turned around to face Scott. He had been hiding behind in the woods near where the Fae was, watching Lou get healed by Elysif, when Scott had snuck around behind him.

"I knew your mission pertained to me when you didn't tell me back at the Table, so I kept an eye out for you. Though, to be honest, I was half expecting you to blow your cover and help the kid. He barely won that fight, and would have died had he messed up. You knew that," Scott said.

"I normally would, but this was an order by the Consuls and the directors. I couldn't refuse, you understand that. Plus, you were the one gambling with his life. Do you really think that you would have been fast enough to save him at the last second?" Compton stated, trying to make it sound like he wasn't also in the wrong.

"True, and I understand your reasoning, but that's also why you talked to me in London, and why you made it so obvious that your secret mission pertained to me. You didn't want to betray me, so you did what you could without betraying the Table. You were always the type to have a good moral compass, Compton, so I trust you," Scott said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So what are you going to do?" Compton asked.

"Nothing," Scott replied casually.

"Really?" Compton asked with a confused look.

"Of course, but I do want to know why the Table wanted to have me tailed. It wasn't dad being worried about me, was it?"

"No, nothing like that. They thought you might have some knowledge about Sir Micheal that you weren't bringing to light. Now that I have been following you three for a few days, I have problems with Lou, I don't trust him," Compton stated.

"I understand, which is why we are sharing everything involving Lou Barret with the Table. We found out how Lou came to this time period, and we agreed to release that information," Scott said earnestly.

"..."

"If you don't trust him, then fine, but please trust me."

"I do trust you, and I always have. If you say he is trustworthy, then I will accept it. However, you and I never made contact, I will tell the Table that I was never even noticed. Now, you cannot mention me at all, got it!" Compton said firmly.

"I was going to do that anyway. Less bullshit that I have to deal with that way," Scott said with a chuckle.

"Okay, then. I'll see you in a few days at the Table headquarters in Warwick."

"See you then," Scott said, before walking towards the village. "Oh, hey, if you see any Willowisps that are out of control, could you take them out as a favor?"

"I already have been," Compton replied with an annoyed look, as Scott began to march back.

"Well, that's very kind of you," Scott replied with a wave of his hand.

***

Elysif and I had returned to the inn and had started eating some roast duck that the innkeeper cooked for us when Scott finally wandered in. He was covered from head to toe in mud and smelled of manure. "I'm going to change quickly, so save some for me," was all he said, as he trudged by us and up to his room. Both Elysif and I weren't sure what to think about him looking like that.

"Maybe he fell in a pasture of manure or something on his way back?" I wondered aloud, trying to rationalize why he was covered in mud and manure.

"I wouldn't be surprised, but even when drunk, he can be in control of himself, unlike most people," Elysif said.

"So it's unlikely. Would you like to bet on it then?" I asked with a casually entertained tone.

"Sure. How about two cents on him not falling in a pasture?" Elysif offered.

"You're on," I replied, before continuing to eat while we waited for Scott. When he finally returned to us clean, he sat down and started digging into the roast duck without a word.

"So, want to tell us why you were covered in mud?" Elysif asked with a devious smile that Scott quickly recognized.

"Not particularly, no," he replied.

"Well, we want to know," I chimed in. Scott let out a small sigh of embarrassment.

"Fine, I was walking back and some of the local brats decided I was a good target for their mud fight and some of them used manure. Happy?"

"Wow, that wasn't what we were expecting at all," I said as I handed my two cents to Elysif. She gave me a satisfied smile as she took it.

"You two were betting on it?" Scott asked, disappointed.

"Well, not exactly," Elysif started to lie.

"We did," I interrupted, being honest.

"Smart. I expected as much from you two. It doesn't really matter, though. We are heading back to the Table tomorrow, and whoever won that bet is going to be explaining the whole situation to the higher-ups while I recover from motion sickness," he said.

"That's unfair," Elysif adamantly refused with a look of disbelief.

"Too bad," Scott replied, before taking another bite off the duck. With that, Elysif just shook her head, before returning back to the meal and changing the subject.

We left the next morning, as Scott said. He had already bought our train tickets before he arrived at the inn, which was a great help. Although, we still had to deal with Scott's motion sickness throughout the ride. That got me wondering, though. If he is capable of moving at superhuman speeds when he is sober, but suffers from motion sickness when he rides the train drunk, then the alcohol is most definitely to blame for his motion sickness.

After a few tiring hours, we arrived back at Warwick, but as soon as we did, we had to wait for Scott to regain himself and get a hold of his innards. Once he did, however, he just decided to let us go alone, so he could find a place to nap. Thus, Elysif and I continued onward to Warwick Castle without Scott.

When we arrived, the guards recognized us and let us in with a quick show of my badge. Filing down the dimly lit hallway into the large circular chamber, the walls were still gleaming, and in the center of the room, was a large table that wasn't there before. Seated at the table was a young woman whom I didn't recognize, as well as Compton, Mordred, and Merlin. Silence filled the room when we stepped inside, making our entrance more ominous than I would have liked.

The first to speak up after we entered the chamber was Mordred, who was holding herself in a much more threatening way. Whoever the young woman at the table with them was, it was easy to see that Mordred disliked them. "Perfect timing. Now we can have these two settle the matter, Mama Louise." Wait, Mama Louise? Was the young woman her? I couldn't tell. Mama Louise was an old hag but this woman was the definition of grace. She had long black hair that was tied up in a bun with a braid around it. Her clothes were similar to a summer dress with a ball gown-like flare to it and frills. To add to that, she didn't give off the aura that she wanted to, or could, slaughter all of us on a whim.

"Of course. However, I do not see Scott," the young woman replied. It was definitely Mama Louise. Her tone and manner of speaking were exactly the same.

"He is suffering from motion sickness so he is currently resting," Elysif responded.

"I see. The man never did get used to riding the train. Perhaps we should return his messenger bird privileges?" Merlin said, feeling a bit sorry for Scott.

"Do you really want him to continue sending those letters, asking for a raise? We still haven't finished going through the ones he sent before we revoked his privileges," Mordred replied to Merlin with a crass tone.

"If I may ask, what matter are we settling?" I asked to try and return the focus back to why we were needed.

"Oh, yes. I apologize. Mama Louise is growing impatient and would like to hear some news about the Willowisps. However, since it was never an official request, I don't see why it is the Table's problem as a whole. You asked Scott and his team, not Merlin or I," Mordred replied, showing some resentment towards Mama Louise. Tension swelled through the room like a midsummer heatwave.

"We have found the source of the Willowisp attacks and have taken care of it. There shouldn't be any more attacks from those Willowisps. I must ask, though, how is it that you look so young now?" I said to Mama Louise. Everyone seemed shocked by the question, except Mama Louise. It was like I had just called out a king for something stupid. Their shock made me hope that I had Jester's Privilege.

"I look like this because of the elixir that Iscariot gave me. Iscariot is quite an interesting and talented man. I am glad that you have taken care of the source of the Willowisps, though. Keeping all the major families in London at bay has been quite difficult, even for myself," Mama Louise replied with a smile.

"I see," I responded. You could almost hear the people in the room starting to breathe again.

"Now that that has been settled, Mama Louise, please feel free to stay in one of Warwick Castle's spare rooms for the night," Merlin said. In response, Mama Louise stood up from her chair with a gracious smile.

"Thank you, I would be delighted," she responded with a bow, before sauntering off with a man who, I assumed, was her guide.

"Well then, on to the next matter of business," Mordred said. "Elysif, Lou, would you give us a testimony as to what happened with the Willowisp incident?"

Between the two of us, we then told them everything that happened from fighting the Fae to me being labeled as a Time Lord. When we were done, Merlin and Mordred were intrigued by the idea of me being a Time Lord, but didn't take it as fact. They instead wanted to talk to Rubin Reuben first, and see if he was telling the truth. Otherwise, they weren't disturbed by anything else we had to say.

"Compton, did all of that happen?" Mordred asked. Wait, Compton was watching us? Had I known that we were being followed, then I would have acted a bit more professionally.

"Other than a few minor details that aren't all that important, yes. That is what happened," he responded.

"Good. We now know that you can be trusted, Lou," Merlin stated with a congratulatory smile.

"It isn't normal for you to trail an agent. Even a new one. Why were you having him trail us?" Elysif asked, not hiding the fact that she was pissed off at them for the act.

"I actually agree. Why did you have me follow Scott if you wanted me to follow Lou?" Compton asked. He knew that they had asked him to trail Scott, but he had not been told to follow Lou. Perhaps they assumed that he would turn his attention towards me due to his trust in Scott and Elysif?

"Well, there is no point in hiding it any longer. It was a test for you, Compton. To see where your loyalties lie. Yes, we did also want you to take note of anything that may have come up on Lou's first official mission, but Mordred felt like Scott was hiding something as well, so it all worked out. Despite everything, you still followed the order to spy on Scott even with him being your closest friend," Merlin answered.

"That doesn't make sense. Haven't I already proven my loyalty ten times over?" Compton protested.

"Yes. However, we have decided to make you the director of the South American division and give you a seat on the Council, but we needed to know that you were truly loyal to the point of betraying a friend," Mordred said.

""What?"" Compton and Elysif practically yelled in shock.

"I'm going to get a seat on the Council as a director?" Compton asked, questioning if what he heard was correct. Elysif was also bewildered by this revelation that she had just heard. I was unsure of what to think about it, as I didn't know what most of that meant, but based on their reactions, it was important.

"That would make him—" Elysif said.

"Yes, the youngest director and Council member in history," Mordred finished with a smug grin. She obviously knew that dropping that bombshell would take their attention away from the fact that he was made to spy on us.

Merlin, however, had a scowl as he rubbed his chin. He was not exactly in the here and now anymore, as he didn't react to anything being said. It was as if he were deep in thought. Merlin had been that way since after he last spoke. I wanted to say something to him, but I was too busy trying to figure out what was being discussed.

"I have a couple of questions. What does a director, and Council member, do? Also, is there anything even happening in South America at this time?" I asked.

"The director of a sector stays here as a representative, and brings up issues within their sector that need to be discussed and resolved. As such, they are granted a seat on the Council to vote on important issues that affect the Table as a whole. Sadly, you are correct, though. There is nothing noteworthy going on in South America that the Table can be a part of. We simply have built a foundation there so that it may be useful in the future," Mordred explained.

"So why exactly did you have him spy on us? There could have been other ways to test him," I asked. Elysif gave me a look that told me I needed to shut up.

"To be honest, I wanted to test him the normal way, but Merlin insisted we try something unexpected in order to increase the productivity of the test. It also gave you a bit of insurance in case the Willowisps were too much for the three of you," she said. Merlin looked at her the moment he heard his name, as if he was broken out of a trance.

"Did someone say my name? I apologize for that. I had been deep in thought," Merlin said, apologetically.

"That's unlike you, Merlin. Are you okay?" Mordred asked.

"Yes, I am fine," he answered unconvincingly.

"Usually, you would have tried flirting with the closest girl that you saw in the room, or at least made one scandalous comment to me any chance you could. What is bothering you?" Mordred asked with concern.

"I am fine," he replied again, failing to extinguish any doubt.

Before she could barrette him any more for an answer, one of the guards from outside came in. "Consul, Head Consul, one of the local authorities wants to speak with you. They say a drunk man claiming to be one of our agents was harassing people in town and has been taken into custody," the guard said. Elysif, Compton, and I looked at each other because we all knew who they were referring to. Scott wouldn't have, would he? Yes, yes, he would.

"Have them bring him here. I think I have an idea as to who it is, and I think all of you know as well," Mordred said with a tired and annoyed sigh. The three of us looked down at the table to avert her disappointed gaze. We knew exactly who it was, and if it wasn't, then we needed to find Scott.

Half an hour passed before we saw the guard stride in with Scott in tow. He had a huge grin on his face like he was pleased with himself, and his hair had several leaves stuck in it, while his clothes were patched with flakes of mud. Mordred gave him a look of indignation, while Merlin was poorly hiding an amused smile.

"So what do you have to say for yourself?" Mordred asked, like a scolding mother, before crossing her arms.

"I have no regrets, and I know that no one in this town will bother me again when I fall asleep on their front stoop," he replied to somewhat spite her. He regretted saying that though after a fist hit him in the back of the head hard enough to knock him to the ground.

"You should be sorry. Why Silva ever took you in, I will never know," Director Langston said, rubbing his knuckles. Scott looked up at him like he had just been betrayed by his best friend. Now that I saw his reaction, I didn't know how he was going to react to Compton's last mission.

"Compton, back me up here," Scott said, getting up from the floor.

"You will not receive any sympathy from anyone in this room, Scott, especially not Director Compton," Mordred stated, as we all avoided Scott's eyes.

"Wait… Director? Is he the new director of the South American branch?" Scott asked, in shock.

"Yes, and he will act as such; so he will not be helping you get out of the talk we are going to be having soon," Mordred said with a punitive expression and tone. Merlin, on the other hand, had a shit-eating grin as he sat in his chair making a whip motion at Scott.

"Well, balls," Scott said, hanging his head with a defeated sigh.

Scott was chewed out for a good hour by Mordred, and then for another hour by his father-in-law. I feel bad for the man. What made it worse was that, while all this was happening, Compton was receiving praise after praise from random people for becoming a director. That said, Compton looked like he wanted to die from all the social interaction he was forced to partake in. He seemed like a very introverted person but worked with it whenever he needed to.

Scott, however, was taking it like a champ. All of the stereotypical chastising had no effect on his pride. However, that ended whenever Mordred said she was about to give him back his messenger bird privileges, but due to this incident, she wasn't anymore. She still technically needed someone to report things to her though, so I was asked to send them reports every month by mail or by telegraph. When Scott realized what that meant, he gave me a dirty look, followed by a wry smile. Whatever he just thought of couldn't be good.

After chewing Scott out, Mordred disappeared to God knows where, and Elysif, well… she had enjoyed watching Scott getting chewed out, and was now chastising him in the same manner. After a good while, we ended up spending the night in the castle, and the next morning we left on the same train as Mama Louise. She was riding in first class, unlike us, so we never actually saw her after boarding the train. The train to London was spent making sure that Scott didn't hurl everything in his stomach, but to no avail. He ended up leaning against the railing on the back of the train and vomiting for most of the ride back.

Once we arrived back in London, we meandered back to the apartments, and instantly plopped down on our own beds, ignoring the small stack of mail that had piled up behind the door as we entered, because we were too tired to care. All for different reasons, though. Scott had puked all his energy out, Elysif was just tired, and I was puked on by Scott twice. I had been able to remove a layer in order to prevent the vomit from reaching my undershirt, and the second time was on my pants. Thankfully, none of it got on my coat, so I simply disposed of my pants and buttoned up my trench coat all the way down for the walk back.

***


The morning after, I sifted through the mail, but found nothing of major importance. Some were thank you letters to Scott for settling some matters in the past, and others were adverts. I was worried by a few death threats that Scott received in the mail, which he read aloud. He didn't care in the slightest and told me he received them all the time. In fact, his most notorious series of death threats were written by a barkeeper who had bet him his entire stock that he couldn't beat his champion boxer in a fight. Scott won while intoxicated, and that pissed him off pretty badly. Scott was more concerned with how much time they took to write these threats, rather than the contents written in them.

Elysif decided to come up to us later in the day, due to boredom, and the three of us decided to play cards. However, we learned very quickly that Scott could count cards. After several defeats, Elysif and I decided to go for a stroll to get out of the apartment. Though, it was more like a patrol. Only a few hours later, we were by Buckingham Palace, which was way beyond where we wanted to go, but we did have some fun. I will say that that is the last time I'll ever take directions from a blind guy. In my defense, though, I didn't know he was blind when I asked.

By the time we got home, it was dark, and the only light we had was the fog-covered moon and a few nearly burnt-out street lamps. In our apartment window, Scott rested on the sill, staring up at the moon like an enamored girl in a shitty follow-your-dreams-style movie. However, unlike in most of those movies, he had a bottle in his hand, so it was less dramatic, and more depressing. Much to our enjoyment, Scott didn't notice us. Thus, Elysif and I waited outside the apartment for a while, betting on whether he would fall or not. He did, but onto the apartment floor, so we called it a draw.

Eventually, we each left for our own beds, except for Scott, who had already passed out on the floor when he fell from the windowsill. Before going to bed, I closed the window that he had fallen out of, so there wouldn't be too many bugs attacking us in the night. As I lay in bed, the small amount of peace and quiet we had gained from our little vacation caused me to want it to last forever. Sadly, we had to start patrolling and training again tomorrow, which was going to be sooo much fun. I know when it is read like that, you probably couldn't tell, but that was sarcasm.

To say the least, nothing of interest happened for a good while. It was mainly just small skirmishes for a while, with little to no activity from the varying monster families. Though it was assumed that none of them wanted to cross Mama Louise, even if she was no longer keeping them in check. However, on that last day of August, someone else was murdered.

I awoke to a knock at the door. It was roughly four in the morning, and I wasn't very pleased with it. The chilling moist London air permeated through the various poorly sealed cracks in the apartment walls, making me want to bury myself deeper into my blankets. Much to my frustration, I knew that Scott wasn't going to get up to answer it, so I got up and threw on my coat to cover myself before opening the door. "What do you want? It's four in the morning," I asked with a groggy and weary voice.

On the other side of the doorway stood two of the authorities with near squat rack physiques and tired expressions. "Don't tell me… Scott did something stupid to piss you all off again?" I asked as that was what they usually came to gripe about. If so, what could he possibly have done to piss them off so early in the morning? The two both looked at me in amusement.

"There's been a murder on Buck's Row, and we were told to collect you as it could be part of your jurisdiction," the one on the left said. Despite them coming over every so often, I could never remember their names.

"Give me a moment to get ready, and if one of you wanted to wake up Scott, that would be great," I said with a devilish smile. Realizing what I meant, they tiptoed past me and into his room with sinister grins. Thus, while they learned just how hard it is to wake that man, I got ready. A few minutes later, I hear the grunts of one of the authorities followed by a crash.

"What the hell are you doing in my house, lieutenant?" I heard Scott yell angrily, nearly slurring his words. I was too busy grabbing some iron bullets for my pistol to care, though. While I already had it loaded with silver bullets, I didn't want to be unprepared. I knew that there was still quite a lot of Fae in the city that could be a threat.

"Scott, don't kill them. They came to take us to a murder scene, so I asked them to wake you up. As you can tell, they were very eager to do so," I explained from my room.

"Fuck you, Lou." I heard him yell back through the wall before I heard him loudly gulping down what I assumed was liquor. I swear, he is going to need a new liver soon. Either that, or he has a liver of steel.

By the time the authorities had led us to the crime scene, it was around 4:30 in the morning. Scott wasn't exactly thrilled about being there, while I, on the other hand, had never done anything like this, so I was kind of excited. Most of the past jobs had been boring and dull, so I was intrigued by something new. However, I learned very quickly why Scott wasn't excited. Upon seeing the corpse, a wave of dread washed over me. It wasn't like one you would see in a casket. Instead, it was surrounded by a pool of somewhat fresh blood and covered in knife wounds. I had to step away for a moment to stop myself from throwing up at the sight of it. What kind of person could do such a thing? It didn't make sense to me how someone could do that.

"What's it look like?" Scott asked a man who I assumed was the detective. The man, in response, gave Scott a look that made me think he wasn't thrilled to have him around. Unlike Scott and I, who were poorly dressed, the detective was dressed in a rather nice brown suit. His hair was cut short, all except for his prominent mutton chops. He also sported an unlit cigarette in his mouth, which was starting to bend from the pressure his mouth put on it.

"Well, if your sad, drunk eyes didn't see it, there's a corpse," the detective said.

"Come on now, Ron. I want to do my job, you want to do yours, so let's work together," Scott replied.

"Fine, her name is Mary Ann Nichols. A bunkmate of hers at a lodging house on Thrawl Street, Mrs. Emily Holland, was able to identify her. The victim had two cuts to her throat and several incisions down the right side of her abdomen. Her Abdomen was also partially ripped open, as if to remove an organ," Detective Ron said with a disgusted but stoic look.

"Thank you, Detective," Scott said before going over to the corpse and crouching down next to it. I followed unenthusiastically. "Look here, Lou. This looks like a human-on-human murder, right?"

"Well, yes," I replied.

"Wrong, humans can commit murder like this, but they don't leave behind blood that sizzles when touched by silver," he said, pointing to a blood stain next to a small burn spot under a silver locket that the victim wore. Let me see your knife." Following his request, I gave it to him, not entirely sure where he was going with it. After taking the knife he touched it to the blood stain, and just like he said, it started to sizzle. Then, he touched a part of the woman's innards with the knife, but it didn't sizzle like the other.

"Well, a monster did kill her; but why would it cut her open like this?" I asked curiously.

"They were trying to remove an organ of some kind. Whatever it was trying to take, it didn't have enough time to do so. There isn't a single organ or bone missing," Scott said thoughtfully, as he looked over the corpse.

"What kind of monster does this…" I asked as I gestured at the body "... for an organ?"

"Werewolves couldn't make cuts like this. They usually just rip open their chest and take the heart. A Pishachas could also do this, though they usually just take the whole body. Changelings could also do this, but there aren't many Changelings around… here," he pondered out loud, then looked at me with an expression of realization.

"What?" I asked, utterly sickened by the mutilated corpse before me.

"We were attacked by a Changeling several months ago, and no one has found it yet. You should remember this because it, you know... stabbed you."

"Don't remind me," I replied, trying not to think about it.

"That Changeling might be the culprit," Scott said, as he thought about it.

"Yes, but how will we find them? We haven't been able to find it since it ran off months ago." As I asked, I looked around warily. The Changeling could still be here, and we would never know it. The thought of it being anyone made my skin crawl with unease. Nobody around us looked in our direction, even for half a second, so I assumed it to be safe. That said, I started resting my hand on the grip of my pistol to calm my nerves.

"Correct, but we weren't exactly looking that hard, were we?" Scott asked rhetorically, noticing my unease.

"Well, no… But what are we going to do that could be any different?" I know we were busy with other things, but the only reason we hadn't pursued the changeling yet was due to the fact that we didn't know how to properly track a changeling. At least, Scott told me he didn't know.

"We will ask for some favors," Scott said with an uncomfortable smile.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" I asked under my breath.

"We are going to ask Mama Louise and her connections," he said with a pained look that I quickly and reasonably shared.

"Fuck!" I said under my breath, again, before standing up from beside Scott.

***

The sun rose a few hours later, as we sat across from a young-looking Mama Louise. We were currently sitting in her personal lounge. As always, it reeked of perfume and the intoxicating smell of candles, igniting the red and purple room with a vibrant glow. She was sipping coffee from a porcelain tea cup, with subtle hints of her sleep deprivation. Although she had yet to say anything, we could easily tell that she wasn't overjoyed to aid us. After several awkward seconds, she set her cup down on its plate with a shaky motion and crossed her legs before clasping her hands around her knees.

"Do you realize what you are asking me, Scott?" she asked as if she were vexed by his request.

"Yes, but I would think that because of our recent endeavor, we would be entitled to a favor," Scott countered.

She sat twiddling her thumbs for a moment before answering. "You are correct. However, that does not mean I can do the impossible. We did our best to keep the peace around London while you were away, but we found no trace of the Changeling during that time. I don't see how you can expect me to be able to find it now."

"I am not asking you to find it, but rather, to keep an eye out for it. You have plenty of authority in London, and can see what we cannot," Scott explained.

"That does seem more realistic. I will consider it but only if you were to bring me more of Iscariot's youth elixir. Then, I may be more inclined to accept your request," she said, giving Scott and me a hinting smile.

"Can't you just go have one of your lackeys get it, or do it yourself? You did have some relations with Iscariot before, didn't you? Why do we have to go on errands for you, when someone else could die?" I asked with a confused look. You could say that I wasn't happy with her, because she is using us without much payment, but it was more about the fact that someone was murdered, and there might be another murder soon. Scott just turned his head slowly and looked at me as if he thought I was about to be killed.

"We had relations, but those relations have been… strained recently. Though, you do misunderstand two things. You, in a way, are my lackeys; and I can't go by myself because even though I look like I am relaxing, I am actually very busy. I am only speaking to you now because I respect the two of you, and know that you would only want to talk for a few minutes," she replied with a smug yet dignified look.

"F-forgive him, Mama Louise. This topic has him a bit on edge since he was stabbed by the same person," Scott said fearfully and apologetically. I looked at him in shock because he was attempting to BS Mama Louise.

"Calm down, Scott. The boy was simply venting. He has a right to, but I would caution him as to who he vents in front of. That said, he does have a point. Someone else could be killed, and although the British Crown is aligned with the Table, they can easily attack us if humans start dying frequently in London. One dead human here and there is okay, but if it becomes noticeable, we would be in trouble. Because of this, I will help you," she stated.

"Thank you," Scott said with a thankful sigh. He stood up from the chair along with me, and we began to head out the door.

"Scott, I would probably be more agreeable if you brought me that elixir, if possible," she said as we left. Scott gave her a thumbs up in agreeance, and we continued our way out through the main hall and onto the street.

"Well?" I said as we headed in the direction of the apartment.

"Well, what?" he replied, cocking his eyebrow.

"What now? Do we continue the search?" I asked. He still hadn't explained how this was going to be any different than what we had already done.

"No, let's head home. I need to have Elysif go to the coroner's office and look at the body," Scott replied with a tired yawn.

"Well, I'm not just going to sit around," I stated headstrong with annoyance. How could he be so casual?

"You're right, you're not. You are going to Iscariot's to get a few bottles of that elixir Mama Louise asked for," Scott said as if that was already expected of me.

"...I am? Why am I doing that?" I asked, unsure as to why we were even appeasing that selfish prick.

"Did you not notice that when she set her tea down, her hand was shaking?" Scott asked.

"I did."

"That is probably a sign of withdrawal. She might be addicted to those elixirs, and although an intervention would be fun, having her in a calm mood will help us in the long run. So you will get those elixirs and bring them to her," Scott explained.

"So you want to drug her up and feed her addiction so that we can use her and her resources?" I asked with an uncomfortable look of disappointment.

"Yes," he replied, near-instantly.

"The fact that you didn't even hesitate to answer makes me wonder how evil you can be." Scott shot me a strange glance as if he were taken aback.

"I am not evil. I am simply doing what is best for everyone," he said with a hurt expression. He then pulled out his flask, and took a few swigs.

There was a brief silence as we strolled. Scott would occasionally glance at me as if he expected me to just go along with it. Eventually, I gave in, because I knew he was right about it making things easier. "Fine… I'll go to Iscariot's," I said, before turning right at the next street to head towards Iscariot's with a dissatisfied huff. As I strutted away, I could have sworn I heard Scott chuckling to himself.