Failed Attempts And Newman Answers.

Or, at least, he tried to teleport back to his kingdom...

Instead, after a dozen silent seconds of sitting in place with his hand in the air, John started to worry. He tried keeping a straight face while Moira looked back and forth between him and his hand, but after he failed to enter his kingdom a few more times, a look of understanding slowly swept over the redhead features. Her face flushed into a deep crimson shade, her stance subtly shifted and tightened, and with one hand she bunched up her leftover chainmail over her chest to try and cover herself up. John blinked and swallowed hard when Moira suddenly hefted her hammer up again... and began tucking it and pieces of her armor into a large shield.

She glanced above John as she moved, leaving only a strange pair of metal panties behind from her armor set, until at last she had completely dressed herself with a spare set of clothing hidden away in her shield. Her brow narrowed, and he watched as she mumbled something under her breath before the shield was somehow tucked away as well. The two of them just stood there for a long minute, while John watched and waited for Moira to try and attack him again... but she didn't. She didn't attack, or move into any kind of combat stance ready for a battle, or even bring one of her weapons back out as some kind of unspoken threat again. She didn't even talk to him.

Hell, even Cassandra didn't attack him either when she came walking out of the school with her sword still in hand. Both girls just glanced at him one last time, then looked up to continue glaring past him.

"Put it away," another woman spoke. John was a little **** to look away from the two women who had been on the verge of killing him only mere seconds ago, but after hearing the new voice, he had to turn and see who it was. The voice had been familiar, and right off the bat, it wasn't hard to figure out who it was that was talking... but it was still strange enough to draw his attention when Mrs. Wentworth came striding over to defend him. Despite how involved she got, Wentworth kept herself at a distance from the rest of them. Once she had stepped outside and within sight of the three of them, that seemed to be more than far enough for her. Her strong, squarish jaw tightened almost imperceptibly at the three of them as they all stood there, and for a moment, John felt worried that she might get wounded for getting in the way. For a moment, at least...

"Back off, witch. This doesn't concer-" Cassandra started before Wentworth interrupted her. John blinked at Cassandra's choice of words.

"Put. It. Away." His teacher's full, shapely lips left no room for misunderstanding as she emphasized each and every word one more time. Her high, prominent cheekbones sat unmoving with the rest of her features as she completely refused to budge even an inch from her position. She gave no ground, understanding, or leniency for their situation. She just took control, somehow, and left John wondering what had just happened as Cassandra slowly eased her breathing back down, huffed once, and walked away. Her sword somehow disappeared again, and her hair shifted back into its natural shade of black. Mrs. Wentworth just stood there, her own long black hair shifting subtly in the wind, until Cassandra was out of sight again, and then she turned to regard the warden with her deep, chocolate brown eyes.

"You dare to-?" Moira immediately jumped to defend herself. She spoke up with a resounding amount of incredulity, despite the fact that she had just been using her powers in public, but Wentworth still did not let her continue.

"You are not with the Order right now, girl. You are in my school." There was a hard pause between the two of them as Wentworth let that sink in. "Do not let me catch you acting so reckless agai-"

"This boy has committed a crime!" the redhead cried suddenly, her voice echoing across the length of the school's lawn... but no one came looking for the source of the noise. No heads turned in their direction, and no one noticed that they were late for class. "He has stolen and robbed, and even if that could be forgiven, I can't overlook the taint within him now. Necromancy will not permitte-"

"Not at my school." There was a moment of silence as Wentworth interrupted Moira one more time and the two of them stood there. He could see the Warden's hands subtly tighten into fists at her sides, her anger visibly rising to a level higher than it had been at when she had been trying to fight John, but... she still didn't do anything. The two of them just glared at each other until, finally, Moira walked away too. The doors to the school that they had come out of loudly banged shut behind Moira as she went back to class and John turned to his savior.

Mrs. Wentworth didn't say anything to him, either. She just turned around and walked away... and then John followed. He struggled for a few seconds as he had to climb back up out of the mud and dirt to walk behind her, but after seeing him smear the dirt on him more in an attempt to wipe it off, Wentworth waved her hand around, and the grime all suddenly disappeared.

No, that wasn't true. The dirt... it lifted off of him. It just peeled off and floated away into the wind like it hadn't even been stuck to him in the first place.

"Who in the hell are you people?!" John asked and watched as his teacher's full shapely lips twisted up into a wicked smile.

"Be careful of the type of questions you ask, Mr. Newman. Some things can be dangerous for you even just by knowing about them." That wasn't helpful.

"No, seriously! What the fuck?!" He didn't walk away like the other two girls had. He realized that that might have been a mistake to continue pressing her like that after watching the other two girls back down, but she didn't seem so intent on warning or hurting him like the other two were. Her wicked smile simply grew, and after a couple of seconds, she even answered him.

"Let's start with redhead then. The girl-" she started.

"Moira," John interjected a little impatiently.

"Yes, Moira. Moira is part of a group known as the 'Order of The Golden Rose.' Part of a self-righteous cult who hunt and kill people that they call rogue mages throughout the world. They generally act whereever the order happens to have a base set up, like they do here in Springfield. They do this stuff in the name of their lady... and consider themselves to be a **** for good. They-" John cut her off at the next sentence just as they reached another door at the opposite side of the school. Thankfully, there was nobody standing out in the hallways to see or hear them when they approached.

"Hold on. They're killing people... and calling themselves the good guys? Why haven't they been stopped? Why is this stuff being allowed to happ-" It was Wentworth's turn to interrupt John this time as she turned to smile at him.

"You are not a part of an old world any longer, Mr. Newman. Do not assume to know what good people do anymore... or to know who is actually good." There was a long pause as she let that sink in for a few moments, and then she spoke again, "However, you are right. The Order is not as just as it thinks itself to be. Neither is the Frozen Flame."

"The... Frozen Flame?" Both of those things were on the girls information sheets when he had observed them, but he had never actually obtained any good information about them. "Are they asking their children to pick the names of these groups?" John watched as his teacher quickly hid a small chuckle behind one hand as John spoke. Her expression lightened, ever so slightly, and she continued walking and talking, even when another student finally did walk past them. He didn't look at them or even register that they might have been there when John accidentally bumped into him... he just kept walking to class.

"The Flame is... relatively new when compared to the Order. Usually, they think they're clever when they abbreviate the name of their group in an attempt to hide it, but anyone with half a brain and some skill can find the real thing. Think of them, and their reckless soldiers, like this... If the Order Of The Golden Rose is supposed to be the police in the area... then the Flame acts like they're the military... or some kind of paramilitary. Only they follow no form of government, and they hold no control over any territory. They go where they assume danger is and stay until it is erradicated."

"Where the Golden Rose uses divine power to smite and destroy their enemies... the Flame uses their own knowledge and secrets. They build new weapons and combine them with the use of precise enchantments in a hopeless attempt to make them useful. The Rose fights with their Wardens, and the Flame has now caught its breath for what may be the sixth time. The Rose keeps allies when they can be controlled while the Flame overlooks people who seem tame. If a person can't be either... they're killed.

"If a group can't be tamed or controlled... then the Flame tries to step in and it usually results in war." That made John stop.

"W-war?" he said. "W-why are they here now then?!"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "You seem to have gathered quite a bit of attention for yourself. Maybe they're here for you. It's doubtless that you have plenty of people hunting after you by now." He paled at that, and when Mrs. Wentworth turned and saw the look on his face, she must have realized how unsatisfactory her answer was because she sighed and kept speaking. "They don't usually go hunting after one person, John. They leave capturing lone individuals to the Order and other groups who stake a claim in that territory. Some groups just pay them to be there. They probably only want you because of what you stole from them."

"But I gave it back!" he cried, and Wentworth shrugged. "I-I-I..." he stammered... and then paused as something else Moira said suddenly nagged at the back of his mind. "...What did she mean when she said I was tainted?"

"Necromancy leaves a mark, boy." she said, as if the answer had always been that simple.

"I haven’t done any kind of necromancy, th-"

"Have you spent time around the undead?" she asked, and John didn't answer. "There you have it. You should get rid of that mark... before it becomes a problem." The two of them slowly came to a stop outside of Mrs. Wentworth's classroom. She turned to face him with her blank expression, and in a strangely flat tone, she told him that it was past time for him to get to class.

"Can you get rid of it for me?" he asked just as she began to reach for the door.

"I have already helped you more than enough for you to owe me, Mr Newman. You won't be attacked by the Order or the Flame at school anymore. For this, you are on your own."