Hugo meets the Magicstrate

A/N: Last bit of backstory before Hugo finally gets to have fun...

"You had one job to do, Enforcer. And now we have 18-year olds turning their schools into pornographic musicals. Transport here immediately once you've cleaned up after this ... abomination." She slammed the old-fashioned telephone down onto its base.

Hugo's senses returned to him in fragments. First, the hard, unforgiving surface beneath him pressed against his cheek. Then, the murmurs of voices, like whispers of a forgotten dream, swirled around his head. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing a room that seemed to have leapt straight out of a fantasy novel.

Vaulted ceilings stretched high above, adorned with symbols that danced and shimmered in the air. Walls lined with towering bookshelves and ancient artefacts glowed with an otherworldly light. The room was oriented around a large, ornate desk, behind which a figure cloaked in robes of midnight blue and silver surveyed him with a mix of concern and frustration.

A guard stood on either side of her, and a stenographer at a smaller desk next to her. She smiled at Hugo sympathetically.

Hugo pushed himself up to a sitting position, wincing as the room spun momentarily. "Where am I?" he muttered, his voice echoing in the vast chamber.

"You are in the Hall of Judgment, young man," the robed figure spoke with an authoritative yet tired tone. "I am Magistrate Elara, tasked with upholding the magical laws of our kind."

Hugo’s memories of the prom night came crashing back to him, from what felt like days ago. The booming music, the dancing, and then the surreality from his palm. "I... I didn't mean to," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He rubbed his painful wrist.

Magistrate Elara sighed, her eyes softening. "We know, Hugo. Your powers should have been detected and guided much earlier. It is our failure too. But ignorance of one's abilities does not absolve the chaos caused."

Hugo looked down at his hands, still feeling the strange, tingling sensation of magic lingering on his fingertips. "What's going to happen to me?"

"That is a complicated matter," Elara replied, standing up to pace the room. "You've exposed magic to the non-magical world, albeit unintentionally. The enforcers are currently containing the situation, but it's a serious breach."

"Am I going to prison?" Hugo's voice trembled with fear.

"Not prison," Elara paused.

Before she could finish her sentence, the door to the chamber opened, and a stern-looking court bailiff entered, passing a file to Elara. "The cleanup is complete, Magistrate. Memory alterations were successful. No trace of the incident remains."

Elara nodded and turned back to face Hugo. "You cannot return to your old life as if nothing has happened. You need training, guidance to control your abilities. It's either that or we strip you of your powers entirely. And your memories."

'Not much of a choice,' Hugo thought to himself. Not that he would miss any of his memories. "Of course, I want the training."

Elara smiled, grateful that she'd been able to preside over a case with a positive outcome for once. She picked up a stamp to mark his file accordingly but heart dropped as something caught her eye. She put the stamp down and peered over her glasses at him. "Hugo Logan?"

"Th-- that's right?" Hugo didn't know what this meant. He hadn't heard his family name in two years. "What's happening?"

She looked at the two guards to her sides and gestured to them.

"My son, I am so sorry. This will not be an option after all. Guards, take him to the Severence."

Hugo looked around at the guards. Until now they had remained unflinchingly, in a ceremonial posture with their metal staffs next to them. They moved in lockstep until they stood on either side of him and turned to face him.

He felt a pressure in his head. He could tell it was from the staffs they held. His periphery started to darken. He looked around helplessly, trying to mentally grapple onto something.

He looked to the magicstrate: her face was stern but he saw a sadness in her eyes. The stenographer felt different to him. She was watching with naive sympathy.

His mind reached out to her and, to his surprise, managed to catch onto something. She gasped and sat bolt upright.

The darkness squeezed him from all sides. He didn't have the energy to stand. The only part of reality he felt like he could touch was ...her? He didn't understand any of this. He reached out mentally and gripped tightly onto whatever he could. He could feel her struggling to shake him off, but he could tell she was distracted by something inside her. Some kind of heat. He felt her squirm.

By this time he had no periphery. He was looking through a tiny hole of light into the world as he fought for his consciousness. The last thing he heard was a passionate moan as he collapsed onto the bench.

As Hugo's consciousness faded into darkness, Magistrate Elara turned to the guards with a heavy heart. "Take him to the Isolation Ward," she instructed, her voice laced with regret. "Ensure his powers are contained until the council convenes."

The guards nodded, lifting Hugo's limp form with ease. They moved through the ornate halls of the magicstrate's court, their steps echoing solemnly. Elara watched them go, a sense of unease settling over her. She had hoped for a different outcome, but the law was clear, and Hugo's last name changed everything.