On to More Pertinent Matters

Violet scanned her surroundings. The whitewash on the high windows was enough to keep the gym dimly lit once the lights had been shut off.

The spectre passed through the bleachers, looking around the messy area, but not spotting even a hint of green.

She moved on looking behind the beaten, torn and worn crash mats, then looked inside the vaulting box.

A shadow moved quickly just at the corner of Violet’s vision and she couldn’t keep up as her head snapped in its direction. “Ironic that I feel like I’m an extra in a ghost movie… Actually, would seeing another ghost scare me? I’ve never experienced it and I’m kinda the one doing the haunting these days,” the white-haired girl mused, chuckling to herself.

The laugh faded and the hairs on her arms and back of her neck stood on end. “In fact, it’s kinda giving me the creeps thinking about it.” She fidgeted and looked around warily. “Uhm… I think it’s time to increase the difficulty for you, sweetheart,” she called nervously.

Violet held her arm out palm facing upwards and flexed her hand, causing a small soft puffball to appear. A warm white glow began to emanate from within as it floated around her. She flexed her hand several more times until five balls of light lazily circled her.

With the light around her, Violet felt the tension in her body relax and a sigh escaped her lips. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

Unexpectedly a hand pressed against her back. “I g-got you,” Alison said meekly.

“Oh my god!” Violet shrilled, jumping and almost falling onto the floor.

“S-sorry, are you a-alright?” Alison asked.

Violet looked at the worried moss-headed artist, and realised how silly she’d been, bursting into laughter. “Yeah, sorry. I just got into my own head. Guess you win,” she admitted, giving Alison a wide smile.

John and the Brightons’ meeting moved from the casual setting of the hearth over to the lord's desk.

Lord Brighton seemed quite imposing sitting across the desk from him. The thought did cross his mind that he felt a little surrounded with Moira beside him, but thinking of the alternative with both Brightons looming over him from across the desk, Moira seemed more comforting next to him.

Lord Brighton began, “I think it would be to all our benefit to disclose as much information as we can.”

Moira nodded. “I’d like to give you much more information than we are permitted, but there is only so much we can share due to not having a contract.”

“Uh, okay? So, listen, I don’t really want anything to do with any of this mess. I have my own things to deal with and whatever this Red Scales situation is doesn’t have anything to do with me. Can I not just get a pager or something to call you guys if I end up in another trap barrier?” John asked.

Moira shook her head. “John, I believe that whether you know it or not, you are going to be a target for them sooner or later,” she said, her tone sympathetic.

“So my friends and I could possibly be in danger? What exactly will you share? Because from the way you are speaking, it sounds like you want me to tell you everything I have in relation to these people while not giving anything or very little back,” John stated.

“Oh, of course not! Admittedly, we can’t share information about ongoing excursions that you aren’t a part of, but we will share as much information as we can. It’s better that we are all as well informed as we can be,” Moira reassured the Gamer.

Lord Brighton picked up a file and opened it, spreading the pages in front of himself. “Indeed. Behaving in such an unchivalrous manner would be unbecoming for any member of the Order,” the lord added.

“I think it would be more efficient if you were to share the information about the organisation that you know first. I assume that as a large organisation, we will have more information than you, so this way we won’t repeat information you might already have,” Lord Brighton suggested.

The Lord opened his desk drawer; withdrawing a notepad and a fountain pen, he muttered the word “Awaken,” and let go of the pen which floated above the pad on its own.

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t actually have all that much information, so after a moment of thought, he proceeded to divulge the information he had. He mentioned the barrier with the basilisk, though since Moira was already in that barrier, there wasn’t really anything he could tell them they didn’t already know. He talked about the dragon barrier, recounting the fight with Celeste who he assumed was a member of the organisation, and finally, he told them about the lure he still had in his possession, including the detail that it was made with his pheromones.

Lord Brighton nodded and waved his hand over the pen, which had been writing everything John had said, causing it to place itself onto the desk neatly. “Would you be willing to relinquish the item to us? Having it analysed and disposed of would be useful to our investigation and likely the safest given the information you told us about it,” Moira’s father asked. “We would share any information we learn with you, of course.”

“I can’t do anything with it anyway, but how do I take it out of my inventory without attracting dragons? I accidentally took it out of my inventory the other day for a split second and felt like I was being watched. I’m not sure if it was just paranoia or if someone had actually followed the scent,” John informed them.

Moira muttered something and John felt a cushion of air hit and pass him. “The barrier protecting the castle should be enough to block the effects, but just for peace of mind, I have surrounded us with an extra layer of protection,” Moira reassured John.

Nodding, John removed the helmet from his inventory. “The cloth lining had several things affecting it, it was apparently linked with whatever location the dragons came from. Like I said before, it apparently has altered pheromones it says they got from me to attract dragons to it and there was some kind of boost effect on… Wait a minute,” he said.

John looked at the helmet and used Observe.

He nodded. “It has an alchemically boosted effect on it, too, which will still be active for over six and a half hours,” John added, placing the helmet on the desk. ’My inventory paused its effect duration, that’s something to keep in mind,’ he thought to himself.

“Noted, thank you. We will contain the helmet and have it looked at, then send it to the furnace to be disposed of,” Lord Brighton said. He removed a bag which resembled the type he’d seen on forensic shows and placed the helmet inside before sealing it up and ringing the bell he had, summoning the prudent butler. “This is a black class item, please take this to be analysed. Thank you,” he said, handing over the bag.

Once the door had closed, Moira cleared her throat. “Now for the information you are owed,” she said, turning to face him fully. “As mentioned earlier the organisation was moved up to ‘normal’ threat level. This means we have a team assigned to them, but it’s not a threat worthy of expending Order-wide resources. We first took note of them when there was an attack against Miss Kaen. Unfortunately for the attackers, they were vastly underprepared and Miss Kaen **** them to retreat.

“Since then, they have been on our radar. We quickly learned that they are interested in dragons, favouring intelligent dragons. They seem to want to use them in order to gain power, but unfortunately, that is the extent of information we have on their goals.

“Thursday was more than a mild inconvenience and required all hands on deck. It was deemed to be an accident on the Red Scales’ side, though due to the nature of the incident, we decided it was great enough to warrant a raise in their threat level, in case another incident happened again,” Moira spoke, only stopping as John had raised his hand. “You have a question?”

“Uh, yeah… Exactly what happened on Thursday?” he asked.

Moira looked at him quizzically, tilting her head before her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, sorry. I had assumed that you had enough magical energy to shield yourself. Thursday morning around second-period, large numbers of dragons began appearing all over Springfield.

“Luckily, with members of the order stationed around the town, there were no casualties or injuries to Abyssals and mundane alike. The exposure required us to enact a failsafe, casting a spell which affected all mundane individuals, the spell also affects any Abyssal with a low enough magical aura.

“I should explain what the spell does. Once cast, anyone affected would forget everything that had happened during the day. After that, you would continue your day in a subconscious capacity. Essentially your body would act on its own,” Moira explained.

“Wait, what do you mean? None of that happened though, I remember Thursday,” John argued.

“Do you? Your last week has been quite exciting, hasn’t it? What did you do on Thursday?” she asked.

John thought for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing more and more as he tried to recount Thursday. He ran through every day, and what had happened, ’And Thursday… I went to class… and came home… it was a typical Thursday… but… that doesn’t make sense…’ he thought.

“So, you guys can just wipe everyone's memories whenever you want?” he asked.

Moira chuckled. “Yes and not exactly. We can do it for individuals or small groups quite easily, but for something citywide we have to use magical items that we have several of specifically for emergencies,” she explained.

John nodded. “Alright, I think I get it. Sorry I interrupted, would you mind continuing with the information?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, I think that’s all the information we have that we can share. We do know the names of a couple of members of this group, but they’re under active investigation.” Moira turned to her father. “That is everything, isn’t it? Was there anything else?”

Lord Brighton hummed. “That is most of the information we have that we can share right now, yes. One more thing I can add is that they have thus far been unsuccessful in gaining any sustainable power from their plans. We were unfortunate enough to find some of their failed experiments.”

Moira sighed and her face turned sombre. “Yes, whatever they were doing, they didn’t want us to investigate…”

“I think I can assume why I’d be on their wanted list now… So what do I do? Should I be worried?” John asked.

“From the way you described your interaction with this ‘Celeste’ individual, she is under the impression that you are just another dragon. Due to that, I would say for now you are safe. It’s likely that she assumed when the barrier dissipated you, were sent back to the location the dragons had been lured from. However, even if they thought that you had escaped the barrier, it’s unlikely they would hunt you down as they have easier ways to gain access to dragons, however unfortunate that is,” Moira reasoned.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t explain what I should do?” John reiterated.

“In relation to your everyday life? Just continue on as usual. I would recommend avoiding the use of your draconic abilities unless you are inside a barrier. In relation to our collaboration, right now we are waiting for information so that we can act accordingly. Once we do have the information, I will contact you and we can decide how you might be able to help,” the Warden explained.

John nodded. He couldn’t think of any questions, and after a few moments, he wanted to ask if that was all but felt it would be rude, so instead he remained silent and rubbed the back of his neck feeling the awkwardness grow.

Lord Brighton cleared his throat, making John half jump. “I believe that is everything we wished to discuss. I wouldn’t want to take up any more of your time. It was a pleasure to meet you, young man,” he said, standing and offering his hand to the Gamer.

John reached over the table and offered what he hoped was a sufficient handshake.

“Right, I’ll take you back to the academy,” Moira said, giving John a warm smile.

John felt his heart skip, feeling the dread of getting back on Moira’s motorbike. Not sure whether he was more scared of the **** trap itself or what Moira might do if he had another ‘situation’.

“I think not,” Lord Brighton cut in. “I’m sure the young man would be appreciative, but it seems that he might not be quite as enthusiastic about your bike as you are. I’m sure he’d feel more comfortable being driven back in the car.”

Moira pouted. “Fine,” she sighed, then perked up. “Well… I have to ensure that you return to the academy safely, so I will need to join you in the car.”

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