Quickly, quickly. Anastasia typed furiously on her phone. She needed to get all of the pictures up before she got to the mansion.

It wasn’t like she was popular on Clock Link. She had friends, but she knew that most of her pictures were unlikely to be set on by even one other set of eyes. It didn’t bother her.

She looked down at her camera case at her side bobbing with every step she took. If she lost it, heaven forbid, she would be able to manage. What was important was that her pictures would exist somewhere. They were proof of her experience. Proof that things didn’t have to end.

The last picture finished uploading and she heaved a sigh of relief. Now if she could just figure out why Pietro wasn’t answering her messages, she would be all set. It was only 10 AM, but she doubted that he was still asleep.

“Ms. Harrow,” a deep voice caught her off guard.

She looked up to see a tall man in a black suit standing in front of her. She recognized him from his hawk-like eyes alone: the butler Walter.

“Oh, hell…o,” Anastasia choked on her saliva.

“I’ve been instructed to escort you to the estate,” Walter said, his cold tone betraying the politeness of his words. “Allow me to carry your things.”

She knew the rules, and the last thing she needed to do was to start a fuss and make herself more suspicious than she already was. She put her phone into her camera case and handed it over to him. With that, they started up the winding road toward the mansion.

“Ms. Harrow, you may be wondering why I am treating you with such hostility,” he said.

“Oh no, I didn’t think that at all,” she lied.

“I see,” he said. “Well make no mistake. I am indeed being hostile.”

“Uhhhh…” she couldn’t see his face since he was walking in front of her. Was this his kind of joke?

“I ask that you excuse my rudeness,” he turned back at her momentarily. “I do it out of concern for Ms. Sadie.”

The two of them walked quietly for a few minutes. Finally, Anastasia spoke. “That’s wonderful.”

“Excuse me?” Walter glanced back again.

“Well I’m not happy about you hating me, obviously,” Anastasia waved her hands out in front of her. “I just thought… that it must be nice to have someone worry about you like that.”

Walter stopped walking and turned around, looking directly into her eyes.

Instinctively, she took a step back. She had a bad feeling. Could he see right through her lie? Could he tell that she wasn’t someone with magician’s blood?

“Perhaps I have misjudged you,” he said.

“Huh?” She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing,” Walter turned back around and started walking again. “I’m afraid I have the bad habit of speaking to myself.”

They walked in an awkward silence all the way to the mansion. Walter opened the front door and she went inside.

“Anastasia, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” a woman in a feminine business suit with a skirt and black stockings met her at the entrance. It took Anastasia a moment to recognize her as Sadie’s mother.

Although she was likely a woman in her fifties, she could have been mistaken for someone in their thirties. Was it because of magic or was she just naturally young looking for her age? Anastasia made a mental note to remember to ask Gregory about it later.

“Hello again… Mrs. Truesdale,” Anastasia immediately regretted her words. What if there was some kind of title that magicians were supposed to call people that were older than them? She could be exposing her inexperience with as simple as a misuse of a word. Why hadn’t Sadie told her?

“Oh dear, please, just call me Isabella,” she laughed.

“Okay, Isabella,” she said. She dodged a bullet this time. She was going to have to be more careful with how she spoke.

She studied Isabella’s outfit. She looked like the perfect example of a modern businesswoman. What was it that Sadie’s parents did for work anyway? Surely they didn’t just live off money from past generations. Did they? Were there really people that amassed enough money to live like that?

“You’re here to see Sadie and Gregory, I understand?” Isabella smiled.

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’d love to have a cup of tea with you but I’m afraid I’m already running late for an appointment,” she said. “My husband has locked himself in his study as usual. We haven’t even given you a proper greeting.”

“Oh no, that’s alright. Don’t worry about little ol’ me,” she had no idea what he was like, but the thought of having to meet the patriarch of the family made a chill run up her spine. She wished Sadie would just appear and pull her away.

“Ana!” Sadie hurried down the staircase with a huge smile on her face.

Anastasia jumped.

“Sadie dear,” Isabella said, motioning at Walter and he walked out of the entrance along with her camera case. “Please be sure to get our guest anything she needs.”

“Of course, mommy,” Sadie reached the bottom of the stairs.

Walter emerged with a black pea coat, identical to the one Sadie was wearing when she met her. She wondered if they liked the same style or if they just shared clothing.

“And don’t bother your father,” Isabella said, letting the butler put her coat on for her. “You know how engrossed he gets in his work.”

“Of course,” Sadie gave a salute.

“Walter, make sure you have one of the butlers leave a meal at his door,” Isabella walked toward the entryway. “No matter how busy he thinks he is, I don’t want him skipping meals.”

“Yes, Madam.”

With that, the two of them left the mansion.

Anastasia snapped her neck toward Sadie. “Are you psychic?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, uh, nothing.”

Sadie raised her eyebrow but then smiled. “Anyway, go ahead and go upstairs.”

Anastasia started to move toward the staircase, but then turned back around. “Are you not coming?”

“I actually have a photoshoot I need to get to,” she stuck out her tongue playfully. “The life of a popstar.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry! Gregory really won’t try anything,” Sadie grabbed her by the hands. “He might be weird sometimes, but he isn’t like that.”

“Oh no, it’s not that,” Anastasia shook her head. “I was just hoping I would be able to spend some more time with you… That’s all.”

Sadie’s eyes glittered. “You’re so sweet!” She leaped forward and gave her a hug.

Anastasia did her best to remain calm, but she was having a hard time dealing with the fact that someone like Sadie Quasar was hugging her.

“Alright, I gotta go,” Sadie said. “Have fun!” With that, she was out the door as well.

Anastasia took a deep breath. It was a little strange to be left unattended in a house that wasn’t hers, especially since it was a gigantic mansion. She hoped she would be able to remember where Gregory’s room was.

“Shall I escort you to Master Gregory’s room?” A voice came from behind her.

Turning around, she found Walter almost directly behind her.

“Oh my goodness,” she nearly collapsed. “Did you teleport behind me or something?”

“I merely walked,” he said. “I ask you not to blame me for your own lack of perception, Ms. Harrow.”

Anastasia was still too startled to realize she was being insulted. “I didn’t even hear you come through the door.”

“I walk very softly.”

With that, the two of them ascended the stairs to the second floor and made a right down the hallway until they reached a door at the end of it.

“Thank you,” Anastasia said. “I feel like you’ve been leading me a lot today.”

“I have,” Walter said. “Let’s not make a habit of it.” He knocked on the door firmly.

“Come in!” A voice came muffled from the inside.

“If you’ll excuse me then,” Walter gave her one last look over before leaving.

Anastasia watched him disappear down the hallway, then opened the door in front of her. Just as she did, something blue came flying at her face.

“Lem!” She smiled as the puppy-sized dragon licked at her cheeks.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Gregory sat at his desk. It was even more cluttered than last time. “He’s easily excited.”

“He’s cute,” Anastasia said.

“Lem actually brought me back some very interesting tea leaves last night,” Gregory stood up, opening up a drawer. “Why don’t we try some?”

“I’d like that,” she entered the room, closing the door behind her.

Gregory pulled out his teapot and started to fill it. Lem rushed over to him, flapping his tiny wings frantically. He got onto the counter, waiting to heat up the water for the tea.

“Did the… investigator from the association ever show up?” Anastasia asked, sitting down in the chair that sat in the middle of the room.

Gregory shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

“Well… what does that mean?” Anastasia asked. “They were supposed to come and investigate what happened downtown, right?”

“Yes, they were,” he said. “Investigators from the association specializing in magic-related crime were supposed to be here yesterday to conduct interviews with the families in the city.”

“Families?” Anastasia perked up. “You mean there are more magic families here?”

“Three to be exact. The Weisert and Faucher families,” Gregory reached out, putting his hand on Lem’s head and gave him a scratch. The little dragon responded by pushing its head up, letting out a fury of high pitched squeals. He then levitated the pot into the air. Lem turned his head upward, spitting flames up at it.

“And none of the investigators came by to see any of them?”

“No. The association has been unable to get in touch with its own investigators. All three families have claimed they never showed up,” Gregory said. “It would be reasonable to assume that they’re… no longer with us.”

“But who would do something like that?”

“As of right now, the association has nothing to go off of. At least, nothing that I’ve been told of,” he said. “I fear it might have been the same person that perpetrated the attacks during the past two days.”

Anastasia thought back to what happened the previous day. The chaos of downtown returned to her and her heart sank. There had been another attack yesterday. Although the identity of the victim was still unknown, the rumor on Clock Link was that it was another teenager.

“Are you serious about becoming my student?” Gregory asked her.

“I don’t know what’s happening in this city, but if I can make a difference, I think I’m obligated to.”

“I’m not asking about obligations,” Gregory said. “I’m asking if you have the resolve to learn. You may even have to unlearn everything you already know if I determine that it’s getting in the way of your training.”

“I have the resolve,” she said, clenching her fists in her lap. “I’ve always wanted to know more about magic.”

“And why is that?”

“To be honest, I idolized Miss Shore… the woman that taught me when I was young, I mean,” Anastasia tried to avoid eye contact. “I never felt like I was special, and knowing how to do something that no one else did made me feel like I was. I guess that’s selfish of me, huh?”

“That isn’t much different from what magicians tell their children,” Gregory said. “We tell them that they’re ‘different’ than others. That they have a long line of ancestors to live up to.”

“I’m sorry,” Anastasia said. “I’m being disrespectful.”

“Not at all,” he rose from his chair and walked to one of the bookshelves that lined the walls of the room. “Unlike them, you’re actually quite special.”

Anastasia felt her face go red. “I’m not really…”

“I did some digging on Deanna Shore,” Gregory took a worn book in his hands. “There don’t seem to be records of anyone under that name in the family registry.”

“That makes sense,” Anastasia said. “She might have had nothing to do with the association. I guess that Deanna Shore might not even be her real name.”

“I’ll continue my investigation,” Gregory said. “Just because she didn’t come up in the registry doesn’t mean she doesn’t come up in some other documents. Even if she used a fake name, I still may be able to find someone that matches your description.”

“Please let me know if you find anything.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Gregory said, putting the book back on the shelf. “Now, enough of this talk. Let’s begin your training, shall we?”

Anastasia took a deep breath. She wasn’t even sure where training like this would start. Was he going to ask her to move something with the wind again?

“Visualize a gate in your mind,” Gregory sat back down at the chair in front of his desk.

“What kind of gate?” She asked. “Is it big? What’s it made of?”

Gregory laughed. “Just think of any gate you like. It’s going to appear to you in the correct way, I promise.”

“Should I close my eyes?”

“If that helps you,” Gregory crossed his arms. “Anastasia, you don’t need to be so concerned with the ‘right way’ to do things. That’s exactly the kind of mindset I’m trying to get away from in my research.”

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. You just have the unique opportunity to learn things in a different way than I and my sisters did,” Gregory smiled. “Don’t let it go to waste.”

“You’re right,” Anastasia sighed.

“In any case, just relax,” he said, getting the tea leaves together. “Let the gate come to you, but do not approach it. For now, anyway.”

“Okay.”

She closed her eyes. She needed to think of a gate. What did a gate even really look like? Did it have a big lock on it? How tall was it?

She tried to just let her mind fill in the details for her, but it was going blank instead. This was just like art class. When she was told exactly what to draw, she had no problems. When she was given too much freedom, she never knew what to do.

“I’m sorry Gregory,” Anastasia opened her eyes. “I just don’t think… this… is… working?”

She was no longer in the room in the mansion. She was outside, standing on dirt in the middle of a field. The sky was overcast, casting everything in a gray tint. Before her was a massive gate of bronze.

“No way…”

The gate was at least fifteen feet fall, made up of thin metal pillars that spiked at the top. Connected to it were equally tall fences that extended in both directions as far as her eyes could see.

“Gregory? Are you here somewhere?” Anastasia called out, but the only answer that came was the distant howling of wind.

She took a step forward. Between the spaces of the gate she could see what looked like the ruins of a castle. Or maybe they were castles. It was so massive and layered that she couldn’t tell where one part of it ended and the other began. She took another step forward to get a better look.

Then she remembered Gregory’s words. She wasn’t supposed to approach it. She needed to get back to the house and tell him. She squeezed her eyes shut again.

“Anastasia? Can you hear me?” Gregory was standing over her. It took her a moment to realize that she had fallen out of the chair onto the ground.

“I saw it,” she mumbled. “I saw the gate. It was so… vivid.”

A smile creeped over Gregory’s face. “That’s amazing. You really saw it that clearly?”

“Yeah,” Anastasia sat up. “It was so real that I felt like I could reach out and touch it.” She put her hands in front of her like she was trying to calm someone. “But I didn’t touch it. I mean, I approached it a little… but I didn’t touch it.”

Gregory seemed uninterested in the fact that she disobeyed his advice. “This is astounding, Anastasia. You’re sure that you’ve never visited the gate before?” He rushed back over to his desk, grabbing a notebook off of it and jotting something down.

“I’d never even heard of it before I met you and Sadie,” she got back up and sat back down in the chair. “What was that place?”

“Honestly, we still aren’t completely sure,” Gregory said. “I have a theory however.”

“A theory?”

“Some magicians see a dragon and think, ‘this must be where the legends of dragons come from’,” he motioned over at Lem who was curled up on the desk. “But I think of it in the opposite way. What if the dragon is there precisely because there are legends of it?”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m saying that perhaps the gate serves as some kind of hive mind where all of our ideas about the unnatural world rest,” he looked at her like he was expecting a big reaction. “So it might not be ‘dragons are real, so we made legends of them’. It’s ‘we made legends of dragons, so we made them real.”

“I… think I get it.”

“It’s alright,” Gregory said. “It’s just a theory of mine. We can always talk about it at length another time.”

“Sorry,” Anastasia rubbed her head. “So how long was I gone?”

“Around ten seconds,” Gregory said.

“It felt like so much longer,” Anastasia laughed.

“I didn’t expect you to succeed so quickly,” Gregory laughed. “Do you feel alright?”

Anastasia glanced down at herself, then shrugged. “I feel fine.”

“Then I’d like to move on to something a little different,” he flicked his wrist, causing the floating teapot to lower itself onto the counter. “It seems you have basic control of the wind down. I’d like you to try and create fire.”

“How do I do that?” She looked over at Lem, who was now resting next to the teapot. “Do I just think about it?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that I’m afraid,” he said. “Have you noticed what you do with your body when you summon the wind?”

Anastasia thought for a moment. “I guess I sort of put my hand out. Or point my finger?”

“Good,” Gregory said. “Making fire will require intense focus and aligning your movements with the element itself.”

“I… I’m sorry,” Anastasia narrowed her eyes. “I have no idea what that means.”

“Allow me to show you,” he stood up again, placing his right hand out in front of him. He angled his hand so that it was facing upward, and then placed his middle finger and thumb together. “We need to create friction.”

Anastasia still looked clueless.

He snapped his fingers and a ball of fire swelled up in his hand. “See?”

“Umm…”

“Yes?”

Anastasia hung her head. “I… don’t know how to snap my fingers.”

“I… see.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

“Walter?” Gregory shook his hand and the fire disappeared. “Is that you?”

The door cracked and a petite girl with dark hair poked her head inside. “It’s me.”

“Celeste,” he walked over to her and opened the door fully. “What is it?”

“I need to talk to you for a minute,” Celeste sent a glare in her direction before looking back to Gregory. “It’s important.”

Anastasia winced. She remembered how Celeste had been when she met her. She was still unsure if her attitude toward Sadie would extend toward her as well.

“Alright,” Gregory nodded. “Anastasia, I’ll be back soon. Feel free to help yourself to some tea.”

“Okay.”

The two of them went out of the room and she listened to their voices disappear down the hallway. She supposed that she shouldn’t let the tea go to waste. She got up, walked over to the teapot, and poured herself a cup.

It was delicious. The flavor was like honey, but not as sweet. When it filled her mouth, it seemed to activate all of her taste buds at once. What in the world were these magic tea leaves?

If she remembered right, it was one of these drawers on his desk. She looked around the room, and then to Lem. “Don’t tell Gregory I looked, okay?”

She opened up a drawer and looked around. It was mostly just papers written in what looked like French. She closed it and opened another. Inside was a jar of pale yellow leaves. She held up the jar and studied it, but they looked much less remarkable than she expected.

She put them back into the drawer and moved to close it, but noticed a strange hole along the side of the inside. Lifting it up, she realized it was a false bottom. Inside, there was a notebook.

She listened for a moment. It still didn’t sound like anyone was nearby. Just a peak wouldn’t hurt. She took the notebook in her hands and flipped it open to a random page.

Day 2,567: While E1 through 7 seem to have expired, E8 and 9 are showing promise. It’s the strongest connection I’ve experienced thus far, although the magic flow is currently unstable. If things continue as they have, I’m very confident that group F will display even better results.

What was this even about? Expired? Was this about preserving tea leaves? She flipped to the front of the book, but stopped when she heard a voice somewhere out in the hallway. Quickly, she placed the notebook back into the false bottom and closed the drawer. She took her teacup in her hand and rushed back over to her chair.

Her heart was pounding as the door opened behind her. She turned to see Gregory enter the room alone.

“T-This tea is so good!” She stuttered. “Is everything okay?”

“What? Oh, uh, yes. Everything’s fine,” Gregory seemed flustered. “Celeste just needed to… ask my advice on something. For a school project.”

“Oh, I see.”

“As much as I hate to do this, we might need to cut today’s lesson short,” Gregory said. "Something has just come up, you see.”

“That’s okay,” Anastasia said. “I really don’t mind. Is there anything I can practice on my own?”

“Snapping you fingers.”

Anastasia pouted.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” he moved to his desk and started digging through papers. “Is there anything you need to ask me before we end today’s lesson?”

“Oh yes, actually,” Anastasia jumped. “Is there magic that makes you look younger than you really are?”

Gregory looked at her, then laughed as if he realized that she was being serious. “No, nothing like that I’m afraid.”

“Well… what about preserving tea leaves?” she found her eyes drifting to the drawer with the false bottom. “I was thinking it might be nice to start a collection… when I get good enough.”

“Nothing like that either,” Gregory continued to sort through papers. “As far as I know, anyway.”