Chiri stood, leaning against one of the plain blank walls in the infirmary. Only serving the purpose of healing minor ailments, each bay within the clinic was equipped with a cot and a little cabinet of medical supplies. Concealed from view by simple white sheets, they did nothing to diminish the hushed conversations of the medics, or the groans of pain from the trainees she had injured.Looking at the person in the cot pensively. Brow creased as she took in the sight of the burns she had inflicted. Leaning her head back until it met the cold wall with a soft thud, she reflected on their fight. Chiri did not mind if it had further cemented her as a villain within his mind, as long as it served in its purpose to teach her brother a lesson. Best that he understood the implications of using their family powers now, Chiri would cut down a hundred more trainees if it could spare him even an ounce of the pain and devastation it had caused her. For her it was a lesson hard learned,

Allen held the bag of bullets, feeling their weigh in his hands he slightly dreaded the prospect of using them.He had never taken a life before. Although, Allen had shot at the Witch, he had been driven beyond reason by hatred and alcohol. He was still unsure how he would have felt if he had actually followed through with it, especially once he discovered she was in fact innocent of the particular crime he had accused her of committing. Her other crimes, however, remained inconclusive. There seemed to be a consensus amongst the majority of people he had encountered, that she was to be held accountable for committing a crime four years ago.The case she had been found guilty of in the past, and the one most referred to within the insular magic community, was that of an incident involving a passenger train. Assigned to guard a Day Gate reliquary during its transportation to the capital, a situation arose in which the Witch completely destroyed an entire car of the train

Walking through one of the long corridors in the central administration building, Allen’s stomach turned. Returning after filing a witness statement for the incident report, he recalled the events, which had transpired during their outing with Chiri Krane. A sight Allen would not soon forget, he could still hear the howl of the dying Changling and vividly recollect the blood splattered on the ground every time he closed his eyes. He wondered why the Witch had chosen to spare him the trauma of experiencing the brutal death of the Changling, while still in its child-like appearance. However, made nauseous by the very thought of seeing her again at the moment, he could not bring himself to ask her. Allen knew now that he had grown complacent towards the Witch’s actions. This incident reminding him that she was indeed every bit as ruthless and dangerous as he had originally thought. Proven by her merciless act of casting such a spell for them to witness. The terrifying efficiency of its

Gawking upwards, Allen’s head tilted back as he followed their mild glow. Continuing skyward until they appeared as small as stars, he could not even begin to guess at how many crystals decorated the tower’s walls. “34,295.” Rika stated. “Sorry?” Allen replied quizzically, not understanding the significance of the number. “That’s how many crystals are in this room.” She explained, guessing at what he had been thinking. Astounded, Allen asked, “What are they?” “Accounts.” Rika responded, already beginning to home in on a particular area, “Some are of events or trials, and others are personal.” She elaborated helpfully. Sliding a ladder over, to the spot Rika had identified. Allen recovered a crystal, roughly the size of an apple, from a shelf marked fourth from the bottom. After descending its steps, they retreated to a small room. Hidden by a dark curtain, it was no bigger than a cupboard. Furnished with a circular table covered by a l

Made weak and exhausted by the magic constraints, Chiri sat on one of the luxurious leather sofas in the Elder’s office. Feeling their constant draw on her magic, constraints were oppressive and suffocating objects for any witch to wear, let alone one who was still recovering from multiple injuries. Flexing uncomfortably under the weight of her restraints, the links of the chains clanged loudly in the silent office. The many eyes of its previous inhabitants staring down upon her judgingly from their portraits. Chiri muttered disdainfully towards them as she slouched further into her seat, “Give me a break, I don’t want to be here either.” The many aches and wounds painfully reminding her of their presence with each movement of her body. Chiri could only rest her head on the sofa back, as she awaited the unbearable arrival of Elder Crouse. Frankly, after the dark spell she had cast during her last mission; Chiri had not anticipated ever setting her sights on him again and was not keen