Kyle the Apprentice Warlock

Kyle: I’ve reached the incident. FBI and their magitech division are on scene.  Will notify you of findings after evaluation.

Director: Good.  Keep me informed.  I have faith in your ability.

Director: Could I get an update?  It’s been an hour.  You should have a preliminary evaluation by now.

Director: the protective enchantments on the museum register that someone’s using some high-level spells out there.  Is it you?  Are you under attack? Let me know if you and Jones are still alive, it’s been two hours, and I can sense level two and three manifestations.

Director: There is a level four manifestation in the city.  Get back here right now.  Let the Magicorps and the superheroes handle the monsters.

Director: Kyle?  Jones?  Anyone who finds this message scroll?  Please respond.  There are three level four manifestations in the city.  We’ve lost contact with anyone on the island of Manhattan.

Director: I’m getting impatient.  If you don’t respond in the next hour, I’m going to assume you are dead and wait until morning to send someone to retrieve your body.

Director: Gods damn it, Kyle!  Someone just cast wrath of Zeus inside the city and I’m pretty sure it was you!  If casting a mage-killer spell didn’t kill you, you’re going to wish you were dead when I get through with you.

Director: Kyle?  *sigh*  Please respond.

Director: Jones?  Anyone?

Director: It’s ten P.M.  If either of you is still alive, please let me know.  I’ve been in contact with the military command that are directing suppression actions.  You were both confirmed alive but, that you’ve been taken for questioning.  I’m trying to get answers, but none of my contacts with the Magicorps or any other branch know anything about it.

After this last message there were a series of scribbles on the scroll.  Like a very young child had taken a pen to the page to make their own nonsensical version of writing.  Nothing more than scratches really.  Below this was a response.

Director: Who is this.  I’m not a big meanie head.  How did you get this scroll?  Where is Kyle and Jones?

More scratches followed and another response.  It continued this way for a while.

Director: What do you mean you ‘found it under a pile of soft in tasty buzzy food man’s warm place’?  Who is tasty buzzy food man?  Did you eat him?

More hasty scribbles that were almost indignant looking with the hard slashes and the way the scroll was indented so deeply it almost tore through.

Director: Well, you called him ‘tasty buzzy food man’, how was I supposed to know you didn’t eat him?  We’re in the middle of a magical emergency with monster manifestations.  Why shouldn’t I assume you ate him?  He’s sleeping?  And Jones too?  What is ‘cold tasty frost sleep one’?

Another several lines of the bizarre scritches were on the scroll followed by yet another response.

Director: Of course, the word you are looking for is ‘ice elementalist’.  That must be Kyle’s sister Anna.  She does put off a lot of magic.  You should probably ask if it’s okay to feed off her first.

The next line of script – because it was clearly some kind of script if the director was able to read it even if no one on Kyle’s end could – almost seemed to covey a sulky sadness and impatience.

Director: No.  Definitely DO NOT let the rest of your tribe in.  Keep those windows closed, they are the only thing keeping the monsters out.  You don’t want to let all the magic in so monsters can manifest and eat your new friends do you?

One last line of script was sent, and the director’s response finished the conversation.

Director: I know.  Your tribe is afraid of the monsters.  But if they go up to the front door of the building, there’s a package delivery slot next to the mailboxes.  They can come in through there and then shut it behind them.  Have them hang out in the mail bin and Kyle can get you all situated when he wakes up.

“I’m not the only one who can’t read one side of this conversation?  Am I?”  Kyle finally spoke up in the deeply concerned silence that had sprung up around the three mages.

“I’m more concerned about who the fu – ” Jones caught Kyle glaring at him and changed his intended word mid-syllable, “ – uuudge.  Fudge.  Who the fudge was in here writing on your scroll while I was sleeping right next to it?”

“Then there’s the fact that someone put it back in the pocket.”  The warlock of the archivist added looking around with alarm.  “Were they being polite, or did they not want us to know that they were here?  Also, who were they?”

“Where are they now?”  Jones drew his wand, the end charging as he prepared a rapid cast spell in case combat was necessary.

“I’m more worried about the fact that there’s a tribe of little hungry things waiting for us downstairs at the mail drop.”  Anna added.  “And also wondering if I should be offended that I was referred to as a ‘cold tasty frost sleep one’?”

A small chiming sound came from Anna.  Not like a sound that a human being could make, but a ringing like crystal being struck and reverberating musically.  Her eyes flew wide as she looked down at her chest where the sound was coming from.

“What is that?”  She was clearly horrified as a lump moved on her breast.  “Is it eating me?  It was clearly told to ask permission!”  Her indignant screech was followed almost immediately by her trying to take off her pajama shirt.  But something about the moving lump stirred something in Kyle’s foggy memories of the night before.

“It’s okay.  Calm down Anna.”

“It’s not okay!”  She hissed back at him.  Jones was now hesitantly pointing his wand at Anna appalled at the fact that there was something possibly crawling out of her body that she hadn’t noticed munching on her all morning long.  “You’re not the one being eaten!”