Kyle the Apprentice Warlock

“Really?  Adrian?”  Camina’s frown became a glower, and the vampire dropped her hand like a hot coal.  Adrian cleared his throat and loosened the neck of his suit nervously.

“I apologize.  You’re looking for your son, of course.”  Stepping back further into the museum foyer, the vampire gestured for them to follow him.  “Kyle hasn’t come into work this morning, yet.  He’s been running late since all the excitement what with all the magic he’s been using and fighting multiple class four monsters and helping out the F.B.I. with investigating the cause of the magic collectors failing.  Camina?  Are you quite alright?”

Kyle’s mother had stopped short as she heard what the director said.  Jim had choked on his own tongue at the words.  Director Arcas had not noticed her freezing in place as her mind processed the information and had continued walking for several steps before he turned to look at the warlock he’d been speaking to.  Her face was pale, stricken and green beneath her caramel skin.

“What did you say?”  It was a breathy, terrified sounding sentence.  And the director seemed to have realized what he’d done wrong as understanding dawned on his face.

“Ah.”  He gave the worried mother a sympathetic look.  “Forgive me.  You didn’t know.  Let me rectify my mistake.”  He took a deep preparatory breath during which Camina interjected with dry irritation.

“Let’s rectify your mistake.”  The Harbinger of Dawn growled and Director Adrian Arcas, a vampire of indeterminate age and origin stepped back nervously as he realized that she was still fully armored.  “My son is a non-combatant.  He was supposed to be here at work, and safe during this event.  Or guarded by Magicorps soldiers if he was in the field.”

“Yes.”  The dark-haired vampire agreed amenably with an audible gulp, his burnt umber eyes no longer shining crimson.  “Kyle is safe.  Over extended, but safe.  The Magic Crimes division called for a Warlock of the Archivist to assist in the investigation.  Kyle went with a Magicorps escort.  Sam was working the case.  And while they were there, Sam got a call from Anna who was trapped in her school and Kyle went to go and help her.  He took out the class four monster that Anna was holding off almost entirely on her own from what I hear.  Then a second at… at least class four monster that he used Wrath of Zeus on.”

“Holy shit!”  Jim dropped his camera ruining the shot he was recording and fumbled for it as it clattered on the ground.  Camina’s head snapped to her journalist shadow.

“You will delete that immediately.”  Gapping dumbly, Jim nodded his acquiescence to her demand.

“Camina.”  Director Arcas began cajolingly then amended himself when he saw how shaken and furious the mother before him was.  “Missus Wattkins, I know that employees at the museum are generally looked upon as strictly academic.  Most people assume our artifact collectors don’t fight and are mostly protected by the Magicorps officers who usually accompany them.  Perhaps that’s even an impression that we encourage them to deliberately make to the casual observer, but make no mistake,” here he paused, and his voice was kindly but hard as steel at the same time, “they are absolutely top-notch combatants when need be.”

“I see.”  Something went out of Camina at that point.  Her shoulders sagged from their normal perfect posture.  Every argument she’d ever had with Kyle about his choice of patron flashed through her mind.  The argument they’d had the last time they had spoken was particularly fresh.  “I see.”

“You’re welcome to wait here for your son. We’ve got the golems on patrol and they would not take kindly to a threat like yourself roaming around the grounds.  Kyle should be here within the half hour.  Perhaps a bite to eat from the museum restaurant?”  The tall, slim, handsome vampire gestured gracefully towards the door of the museum café where tables were pushed into awkward locations and chairs haphazardly dotted the dining room. 

“Fine.”  Camina gave the smarmy vampire a not quite disbelieving eyebrow raise as she allowed herself to be guided over.

“It’s still a in a bit of disarray, but the food is delicious and we have a buffet set up from serving all the refugees that just left.” Director Arcas pointed to a serving line that had been abandoned which employes were helping themselves from as they began to clean up.  Then he waved discretely to get their attention and made a cutting across his throat motion and a crossing of his hands while mouthing ‘leave it, leave it’.  Which they happily did, instead filling plates and sitting down to rest themselves.

“Okay.”  Camina chuckled.  “I can be persuaded to eat.  If for no other reason than to give these employees a break.”  There was a weary cheer from the bedraggled group who raised glasses, mugs, the occasional eating utensil in her direction.

“Why did Kyle go home if there are employees here who appear to have not left?”  Jim cut in suddenly, his camera ever at the ready.

“Oh, these are employees who don’t reside in the employee housing and or who do not have magic.  Those who are not combat mages have chosen to stay in the museum for the duration of the emergency or until our security golems report that it’s safe for them to travel back to employee housing unescorted.  If you’ll excuse me I have a great deal of work to get done…”  He bowed politely to first Camina and then Jim and then turned about smartly and walked quickly away.  He was already pulling a communication’s device out of his pocket as he walked.

Jim and Camina watched him go.  Camina warily and Jim with suspicion.

“That’s the walk of a desperate man.”  He commented drily as he turned his camera off for a moment before heading over to the buffet.  “What do you think he’s hiding?”

“You mean besides the fact that he genuinely has no idea where my child is or if he’s even still alive but just assumed he was…because…?”  She let the sentence hang there for a bit with a shrug and a withering glance over her shoulder as she turned toward the buffet.  Her stomach growled loudly as her mouth began salivating.  “I don’t suppose you could not film me until I’ve gotten some food and quieted the black hole in my stomach?”  She flushed with embarrassment as her hungry body betrayed her again.

“No promises.”  Jones said around a mouthful of bacon he’d already snagged from the buffet.  “If I thinks it’s good, it woes in tha eel.”  He coughed and then swallowed the food he’d been chewing as he spoke while Camina suppressed a smile of annoyed amusement.  “Ahem.  I mean, if I think it’s good it goes in the reel.”  He held his breath waiting for the beatdown that he half feared would come for being so bold.  But, The Last Line merely huffed and threw up her hands.

“Fine.”  Then she grabbed a plate and Jim turned his camera back on to both document the buffet and get some little seen ‘humanizing’ footage of Camina Wattkins being a normal person for once.

They were comfortably seated and Camina was halfway through her first plate while Jim was contemplating going for seconds when he and everyone who was not Camina Wattkins was startled by a terrifying sound.  First one, then another, then another.  Camina stood, ready to act but uncertain. 

“What is that?”  Jim shouted at her as she clearly knew what the noise was.

“Fireball spells.  Big ones.”