"I found one of Beatrice's old contacts," Tod said, having entered the room after knocking. They were in an old gang hideout, no longer used. Fortunately it was for that reason it was overlooked in the recent raids, allowing Amy to have some small place to stay the night.

"Good. How soon can you get me with them?" She asked, sitting in a chair in her dingy and dusty room. It was quite cramped, and mostly lacking any furnishing. All that adorned the room was the bleached shadows where removed paintings once were, the shards of glass from the cracked window, the wooden chair she was sat upon, and a tiny creaking bed in the corner.

"I can organise a meeting today and if you come along you might get a chance to meet the Mage," Tod stepped into the room fully, no longer lingering by the door.

"Anything you know about this guy then?"

"Not much. Beatrice usually kept those sorts of things close to her chest. Always said it was to keep us from worrying," He smiled.

"Any rumours then?" Amy turned her head to him, pausing her constant cycling.

"He's a piece of shit, but nothing's new when it comes to these kinds of Mages."

"What do you mean?"

"There's only one kind of Mage who gets involved with this kind of thing, they're all the same; excluding you of course Miss Witch."

"I see. Anything about his capabilities?"

"Beyond what he's shown, nothing much. He keeps his abilities close to his chest, but keeps out of a lot of things too. The only truly magical things he's known for is his air magic: suffocating people to death, flying, that sort of thing."

"Flying? Actually flying?" Amy frowned.

"I've never seen it... but there's always some exaggerations to Mages."

"Probably not actual flight then," She sighed. If he could fly, then he'd be a Journeyman from what I know of Air Spells. It's most likely just simple floating or gliding along the winds. Still concerning, but nothing I can't handle at this point. "Organise something fast then. I'll be joining you."

* * *

It was barely midday when Tod gave confirmation and soon they were both on their way to the meeting spot, an out-of-the-way alley in the city slums. Tod suspected that it wasn't just any random meeting place but actually near where the Mage resided, but Amy had doubts. When they finally reached it, already Cloaked and wearing her Visage, Amy spotted the person they had waiting for them, a small child lurking in the darkness behind a bend. From there, once she pointed him out to Tod, things went smoothly enough, him taking the lead for the most part. Soon, they were on their way, weaving through streets and alleys that couldn't be further from what she had seen in the magic quarter of the city. It was indescribably filthy, trash littering every corner and people begging on nearly every road. As Amy took it all in, judging, her disdain for the Empire and its Mages grew.

It's disgusting, she sneered. They have all this power, all this technology and means to help these people, and they do nothing with it. They hide away in the Towers, forever researching, forever reaching for the next height to surmount, the next Tier. For what? Their path? I doubt the majority of Empire Mages even have a path, probably progressing through the Tiers completely blind. All that they show in the Mage quarters, it's just a trick. To show off the majesty of the magical, to distract you from thinking about why they keep holed up in one place, isolated from the lesser part of the city, the mundane. I used to be so dazzled by it all, thinking it so... Well, magical. Now, I suppose, all that's left is cynicism.

I could do it right now. I imagine that most of these people are ill; too sick to work and so they fall into poverty. I could treat their ills, and help them get back on their feet. The only reason I don't is that I don't have the power. I could help a couple people and then I'd be swarmed as word began to spread. I would need to develop more Spells tailored for it, if the FPG doesn't have any, and the association may even come down on me for it as it wasn't approved, or whatever nonsense they might make up. What is stopping them from doing this? Nothing. Nothing is but laziness and greed. I wonder how different it was before the Wars? Before the world of Mages fell so low? Was it a utopia? Where magic helped raise everyone up? Or was it just as bad as now?

I could ask Felin but... doing that would expose what I'm doing pretty quickly. After all, I'm supposed to be on my way to Evyria by now. Something to ask when this is all done, along with so many other things, so many questions I've bottled all up. It's funny how fast I've collected them since he was dismissed. And there's a couple I didn't ask before he went too. That... odd Fae magic I cast. I know it has something to do with my path. I've already identified something about it, how it's related to laws somewhat. That Spell, working, or whatever it may be, seemed so core to my being it'd be weird for it not to be related to my path somehow. I guess... it could still be a fooling of mana, like the Wizards call it, but to Law instead? A distortion of the Laws in those Alarm and Lock Spells, to make them malfunction. If I could distort those Laws, assuming I'm true, then what else could I twist?

"We're here," The child spoke, waking Amy from her reverie. She had been absentmindedly following Tod, too distracted by her own thoughts, so it was lucky that she hadn't accidentally bumped into him when they suddenly stopped. They were in front of a small storefront, or at least, what used to be one. The sign hanging out from the front over the door was barely staying attached to its chain, and the words on it were long faded. Through the dirty showcase window, she could barely make out a couple people lingering inside. And, through her Sight into the Mana Ocean, she could feel the ripples of someone casting Spells inside. The Mage was there.

Walking in first, ignoring the look of panic on the child's dirty face, Amy marched through the rows of old shelves, staring intently at the man sitting in the chair at the back of the store. His presence in the Ocean was noticeable and his movements through it, whether that be calm breathing, or the waving of his hands as he played with mana, had a weight to them. Amy couldn't stop a small sweat build at the back of neck as she investigated the man further, her Sight penetrating as deeply as it could. There was no doubt that the Mage wasn't an Aspirant or even a Mageling; the only concern was whether this was only an Apprentice, or something worse. The mana raging in his body made it hard to see into it, so she couldn't judge his mana pool very well, but something about the way it permeated him seemed strange. It was concentrated in his eyes and brain, yes, but there was something odd about it. It felt... incomplete. The mana that blocked her didn't seem as dense as it should for his supposed Tier. Breathing a sigh of relief, Amy moved past the slight faltering in her step, and continued her approach. He was not only an Apprentice, but a stunted one as well. Is this what Felin meant when he emphasised not stopping my Magecraft? Is this the result?

"What do we have here?" He looked her up and down, squinting his eyes. The man himself was tall and heavy, the old chair creaking under his weight as he moved about on it. Next to him was some sort of follower of his, who had the tell-tale signs of something she had seen in Tod the night before. Aspiration. "So you want to meet with me, Mage? You don't seem like much."

"I was expecting more as well. Seems we're both disappointed," Amy chuckled.

Although the Aspirant besides him bristled at the insult, the Mage took it in his stride, laughing alongside her. Putting forward a hand, he said, "The name's Pigeon. At least, that's what they all call me."

"You may call me Witch," Amy shook his hand, ignoring the way he tried to squeeze it. "What's the story behind that name? It seems... odd."

"Oh, nothing really. They used to call me the Rat, before I became a Mage," He said, shifting in his seat again. "When I grew wings, then... Well, you see how it is. Witch is a strange name too though. Seems we Mages have a strange habit of picking names like that up. How'd you come across that?"

"Nothing much, Pigeon," Amy grinned. "All it took was hurting a couple of people and before I knew it they started calling me it."

"So what do you want, Witch?" Pigeon asked, his easiness dropping as he turned serious. "You've interrupted my day and I hope it isn't for nothing."

"You'd let someone like me bother you so easily?"

"I'd let a newcomer Mage, yes. It's always nice getting a good look at the competition before they join the scene."

"And what makes you think I'm doing that?"

"When Beatrice's old folks start running about like a kicked beehive and one of her old associates comes looking for you serving a new Mage, you start thinking some things."

"Well, I assure you, I have no interest in gang politics. I'm here for a relatively simple reason, nothing involving that sort of thing."

"Oh? And what is this oh-so-simple reason?" He smirked, leaning forwards.

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"I want information on someone called Harrison Clarke."

"Clarke?" He spat, his eyes growing wide. "Why the Hells would you want to look into that?"

"Nothing you need to know," Amy said, hiding her lack of knowledge the best she could.

"If it concerns the Clarke's, then yes, I do need to know, Witch," Pigeon slowly stood up, easily towering over her now he was standing at his full height.

"Why? Are you scared?"

"If you go to anyone asking about a Monarch's family, then they'd be mad not to be! So I ask again, why are you asking?"

"And, as I said, all I want is information," She tried to assure him as well as herself, trying to keep the shock of her own face at his statement. A Monarch's family? What have I gotten myself into?

"That isn't good enough," Pigeon glared, the whistling of wind beginning to pick up in the shop as a strong current blew through it. "You don't just go asking someone you just met to kill themselves, do you Witch? Or is that normal where you live?"

"...No, it is not. I do not truly know what to say though. I only want information-"

A jet of air blew past her face, whipping up her hair and leaving a small cut across her cheek, the attack sudden and unexpected. Before she knew it, the man had begun focusing Wind mana around him, another Bolt by his side ready to be sent flying. Pigeon might've been a lesser Mage than her, but he was no doubt more experienced. And that experience deserved caution.

"Try again."

"...Is this really how you want to do this?" Amy said, her Monstrous Visage writhing and wriggling. Meanwhile, her Cloak, which had been dormant before, began to subtly darken, as if transforming into shadow itself.

"One last chance, lady."

With a sigh, her Cloak practically oozing abyssal darkness, and her face that of a rotting corpse, Amy sighed. "So be it."

Dodging out the way just in time, a Wind Bolt flew past where her head had been, impacting the back of the shop with a loud bang. Behind her, she could hear Tod shuffling away, trying to escape before the Mage fight turned too dangerous. The Aspirant also seemed to have similar ideas. Before the Pigeon could cast another Bolt, Amy directed as much mana as she could into her Cloak, the Magick activated to its fullest. Immediately, the Mage lost track of her, his eyes seeming to glaze over where she had just been.

The Pigeon reacted quickly however, and began concentrating Wind mana around him, the light grey colour of it flowing around him almost seeming like it was caressing him. Unsure of whatever this next attack could be, Amy sought cover behind a shelf. In the next moment, she found her instinct rewarded as a large blast of wind exploded out from him, knocking everything around him away, the chair he was sitting on shattering into bits as it hit the wall. A couple of the shelves couldn't handle the pressure and collapsed too, yet luckily her own stood strong.

"Come out, Witch!" He yelled, swirling around as he tried searching for her.

Amy looked desperately around for a weapon or anything or the sorts and came out empty. Anything that might've been in the store was looted, and all that remained was useless junk. Throwing away her first plan of sneaking up on the man and attacking, Amy's mind went scrambling for something new, settling on something she hadn't thought about in over a month. Switching up her Magecraft, Amy settled on the familiar imagery of the heist, of a grand thief stealing away the treasure of reality and replacing it with something new. The monochrome brilliance of Illusion coalesced swiftly around her pool, mana raging in her. Forcing it all into the Spellform of Lesser Illusion, Amy hoped to elevate the Magick by at least a Tier using the larger volume of mana. That, hopefully, might be able to trick the Pigeon.

The Pigeon's eyes caught the look of something by some of the back shelves: a foot, peaking out from behind cover, cloaked in black. Smiling wide, and still yelling his warnings, he sent a Wind Bolt - or perhaps what seemed like an upgraded version of it - straight at it, hoping to catch the Witch unawares. The Illusion however reacted in time, 'moving' its leg out of the way just before it hit, while Amy watched from behind, stalking the Pigeon. Cursing to himself, he gave chase, his speed enhanced by the wind at his back as he floated above the ground. Amy struggled to move the Illusion over in time, trying to get it so all the Pigeon saw was the edge of her feet as she darted about the shop, hoping the rest of the somewhat shabby Illusion wasn't seen.

Working along the same lines as before, an idea popped into the Witch's mind that she immediately liked. Before she knew it she was conjuring Illusory Bolts taking the appearance of Coruscation, appearing where the Illusion danced and the Pigeon followed. Turning another corner, much to his shock, the Pigeon stood face to face with five burning spikes of blinding light, all shooting towards him. Rolling unceremoniously forward, throwing his entire bodyweight against the ground, the Bolts whizzed past his face, singeing his messy hair. He patted it uselessly, trying to extinguish the Illusory flames that flickered in them, breathing a sigh of relief when the heat on his head finally dissipated. Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed much time at peace as another array of Bolts angled his way, originating from where a foot just jutted out from another shelf.

"Damnit!" The Pigeon screamed, leaping forward and up the best he could, trying to get out the way whilst he was sprawled across the floor. Of course, he didn't notice that the Coruscating Bolts left no burn marks where they landed, or that they didn't actually burn his hair when they passed through it, or else he wouldn't have reacted so violently.

For once in the battle, the Pigeon was left scrambling for protection in the shelves, trying to spy where the Witch went next, hoping to get the advantage. From where the Witch actually watched him, staring at his back, she tried to engineer the next movement of the Illusion and Bolts carefully, pushing him ever forward towards the front of the shop, towards the window.

Strangely though, the Pigeon had stopped moving. The Mage stayed still behind that shelf, his eyes darting carefully about as he strained his senses. Amy could barely sense a trickle of Wind mana focus around him, gaining an odd edge that she couldn't quite discern unless she stepped closer. It seemed to gain an almost ethereal quality to it as a spread out, Amy unsure of what exactly the Pigeon had in store. Either way, it wasn't anything good, so the Witch began the next movement.

That was when a Bolt manifested behind the Pigeon, flying straight for her face.

Amy barely managed to twist out the way in time, only able to thanks to her recent mental enhancements. If she hadn't kept focusing on them after the museum, if she had lapsed in her training... Amy didn't dare to ponder, and refused to let her mind wander at a time like this. Ignoring the Pigeon's further actions, Amy flew straight at the man, this time manifesting truly invisible Illusory Bolts hoping to distract him. She didn't quite know how he had detected her, but it must've been to do with the wind, possibly her movements in the air giving it away. Either way, she had to act.

Unsurprised by the Witch's initiative, the Pigeon turned around with his eyes closed and began preparing a multitude of Wind Spells, Bolts soaring through the air, Gusts charging, and Blades cutting. Amy manifested a Ward in front of her as fast as she could, and, with it, injected a small tinge of Fae that had leaked from her mana pool, almost unconsciously, unwillingly. The Spells smashed into the Ward, battering and cracking it severely, almost crumbling back into Pure mana, yet leaving the Witch mostly unharmed. Finally reaching the Pigeon, the Witch slammed into the man, still crouched, as hard as she could, knocking him over and sliding towards the front, finally making it to the window. Yet, it wasn't enough. The man had a Ward of his own in place, taking the brunt of the force for him. The Pigeon simply wasn't close enough.

"Your tricks were impressive, Witch, but-"

Interrupting him, an Coruscating Bolt slammed into his back from behind, not expecting that the attack was actually real. The Pigeon had heard of regular Illusion, obviously, most Mages had. Once he had figured out that the Witch used them, he thought her strange ability to summon Coruscating Bolts, an Advanced Bolt, so quickly and easily to be a trick of Illusion and actually fake. So when the Bolt that left no currents in the air went flying at him, he didn't react. That was his mistake: assuming that all the Bolts were fake.

Reeling at the pain at his back, scorched and burning, Pigeon screamed in agony, launching himself away from the Witch and conjuring more Wards and Shields around him. The Witch approached him calmly through it all, a horrific sneer on her terrifying face that made him want to turn and flee. But just as the Pigeon underestimated the Witch, so had she done the same with him. Her own Wards could only sustain so much damage, and when the Mage attempted an all-out attack of Wind Spells in a last-ditch effort, one managed to get through, slipping through the cracks of her reaction speed. A Wind Gust knocked into her, sending her crashing forwards into the Pigeon's reach. Just as he was leaping forwards, forcing himself to fight through the pain, eager to hurt her, words of honey slipped out from her mouth.

"Falter."

Instantly, his will to fight wavered slightly, not enough to hamper him, as it would've done if he was just a Tier lower, but enough to make him hesitate. The shattering mana of Mirror crackling around her, the Witch stood up and, once again, charged at the Pigeon, meeting him in the middle. And that small faltering was enough to make the large man lose. With a hard kick from the Witch, the Pigeon fell back onto the glass window behind him, his strength somehow weaker as an alien force seemed to creep slowly into him, enforcing its own will on his own. Before he could collect himself, Amy smashed his face into the glass, cracking the window as she cast her Spell.

Mirror Walk flowed out from her and into the Pigeon, meeting the resistance of the will of another Apprentice. An issue easily corrected. Speaking words of power, and utilising the Fae that had crept into him from her previous infused Spells, Amy Commanded him to—

"Yield."

The Pigeon's will was strong, even for an Apprentice, and yet all it took was that one Command for it to shake enough to let the hostile Spell find hold on him. He was the weaker Apprentice, after all. Sinking into that distorted Mirror World, the Pigeon struggled to comprehend what was happening, the view from inside the shattered reality too strange to comprehend and battle. It would take him too long to fight against it, to escape. And so, the Witch could do whatever she wanted.

A globe of radiant Coruscation smouldered in her hand, raised directly at the Pigeon's lonely reflection in the cracked glass window. Amy smiled one last time at the man and sent the Bolt on its way.

Exploding into horrible fire, the window disintegrated into fragments, all burning in the inferno the Coruscation created. And splintered between them all was the Pigeon's reflection, forced to bear the pain of being split between every single shard of glass, his body ripped apart by the forces of the Mirror World. Fortunately for him, the Spell did not last for long after its anchor was smashed and the Pigeon soon appeared back in the real world, emerging amidst the explosion of glass, lines of cuts and scars bleeding across his entire body, as if it was made of cracked bloody glass. Tumbling to the ground outside, the Pigeon could barely think through all the pain, unable to suppress his cries and tears.

"At least you aren't burning," The Witch said from the side, having walked outside to stare at him writhe pitifully on the ground.

"What- What do you want!" The Pigeon screamed, flailing his arms.

"The same as I've always said: information on Harrison Clarke."

"Fine!" He finally gave up, trying to wipe his face clean and only agitating the lacerations across it, smearing his entire face red with blood. "Just- Just promise to leave me alone after all this is done! I'll give you-"

"Good," Amy clapped her hands together, wincing from a sudden pain she felt at her back, where she had been hit. Leaning down, her terrifying face crawling with maggots and worms, her bright purple eyes burning in rage and piercing straight into his soul, the Witch demanded, "Tell me everything you know."

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