Time passed again. As the baby grew, the light in the blanket shrank. Its warmth faded. Three years came and went in the little wooden box. Sun turned to cloud. Cloud to rain. Autumn to snow and snow to spring. Occassionally the giggles and laughs of a child could be heard. Some students from the Sect of Sagacity swore the woods were haunted. McCarthy himself had inspected, but found nothing.

On a particular day of this third year, a little toddler bustled about on his knees, shovelling dirt with his hands. His hair black. His eyes brown and his body jiggly with baby fat. The small boy was scooping dirt with an almost religious fervour. Sweat dotted the small figure’s form and soon, after a deep exhale, the child leaned back and stopped digging. The boy turned and looked at the glowing blue blanket.

Mom!

I’m not responding to you if you don’t speak out loud.

“Mom…”

How many times have I told you not to call me mom?

“But you are mom!”

The auburn woman appeared in his mind again, her form somewhat more transparent than before. Her smile tired, but still strong. The blue summer dress and freckles the same as they were so long ago.

Call me Katherine.

"Kath — uhr — …. Kathur….” The toddler struggled over the strange word before exclaiming, “It’s too hard!”

She shook her head. Not as hard as your thick skull.

“My skull is the normal!”

She giggled. Yes, yes it is. Come on Oz, keep digging.

“But I’m tired.”

Come on Oz, you can do it! I think I can, I think I can, I think I can! The image of a chugging train on a hill appeared in Oz's mind.

The boy swatted the picture away, “I hate it when you say that!”

A mental sigh entered his mind. You spoiled brat, don’t you want to get out of here? See the big wide world?

“No.”

… Are you serious?

“I the serious!”

But… you need to get out of here.

“NO!” His fists curled into little balls and he stared defiantly at his blanket.

If you throw a tantrum, there’s no dinner for you.

“Mom… that’s not fair!”

Life’s not fair stupid.

“I not ‘tupid!” A small lip jutted out in the blue light, quivering with righteous indignation. Oz felt like his honor had been slighted, and oh, indeed it had been.

You’re not?

“I’M NOT!”

You look the ‘tupid to me!

“Don’t make fun of how I talk!”

What are you gunna do tough guy?

“I’ll get mad at you!”

Oooooo… big scary man. You don’t scare me. You’re so weak you can barely dig.

“I can dig!”

Pfft! You’re the worst digger in the world.

“NO! I’m the best!”

Prove it! Dig!

“I show you!” With renewed vigour and fueled by the sanctity of his task, little hands dug and dug and dug. For honor a man of any age would go mad. The auburn girl pursed her lips in his mind and blew him a kiss. Oz stopped digging for a moment as he giggled. She grinned. Then whispered in his mind.

You can talk to me with your mind now…

Oz wrinkled his nose. Tell me a story!

Do you want to know about the world outside? The light from the blanket danced over Oz’s form.

He smiled and nodded.

She shrugged helplessly at him. Oh, the silent nod has returned… you truly are the same person…

Oz is only Oz!

Mhmm. Do you remember where we are?

In a box! Oz grinned at his own brilliance.

She held back a sigh before patiently stating. Right now, we are in a place called the USSR.

“Ooosur?” Oz chewed his lips as he pronounced the letters as a word with difficulty.

Katherine facepalmed in his mind. You pronounce the letters individually.

Oz cocked his head to the side. Individually?

Yes. It means “one at a time”.

Oz grinned with triumph. Ah. So, it’s U S S R?

… There’s no need for the long pause between each letter.

Oz nodded stoically.

Katherine continued. It stands for The Union of the Star-Spangled Republic. Mostly called the Union.

Oz remembered that one!

I’m sure you did! Oz squealed as Katherine rubbed his head with the blanket. She paused to let him settle down and then continued her story. The founder was a mighty cultivator, George Washington, he was one of the most amazing elemental cultivators to ever live. As she mentioned the man, she sent images of what he looked like. The man was tall, strong, imposing and fierce. His hair long and white. A cotton robe billowing and flowing in the wind, dyed shades of blue and white.

Oz’s eyes lit up while he dug, he loved hearing the stories of the mighty cultivators of old, even if he didn’t know what a cultivator really was. His boyish curiosity was at its peak. What did he cul — ti — bate?

Wood.

“Did Washington have enemies?”

Ohoho. He had enemies. He and his friends were at war with the USA or the United Soviet Alliance.

“Oh… Did Washington die?”

Nobody knows what happened to him after the Crossing of the Delaware… he disappeared in an epic battle.

Katherine sent over the scene of a great battle, cultivators left, right and center engaged in an epic struggle for supremacy. Oz slowed his digging to appreciate the scene.

A wizard was locked in battle with Washington. Blasts of mana and wooden spikes crossed a field littered with bodies. The wizard scowled at the cultivator and threw out a dozen shining crystals. Everyone panicked at the sight of these crystals. Washington shouted and threw up a bramble wall to protect himself as the wizard blasted the crystals with a mana ray. A greasy figure with a black kimono, dirty hair, brown eyes and a neutral expression tried to intercept the ray but was knocked out of the way — smoke and fire erupting on his chest. The scene went white with the glow of an explosion. Then, when the brilliant flash of light had subsided, Washington — and everyone else — was gone, the only one who remained was the wizard. His clothes were torn and shredded, but upon seeing the success of his "Mana Bombs" he began to cackle wildly with glee. Then the scene. vanished

Oz sighed, but Katherine continued the story. Left leaderless, the Union almost collapsed, but then a hero emerged. Stonewall Jackson. So nicknamed because of his powerful Earth Cultivation. He was backed by one of the greatest Wizards to ever live… Thomas Alva Edison. And so they fought, on land and sea… for freedom, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And a few other reasons... but you're to young to know those.

The boy nodded solemnly. He used to argue with Katherine whenever she said that, it was a losing battle. He had learned from many a defeat.

Scene after scene flashed by in the little toddler’s mind and every now and then blue light would enter into his body — erasing all fatigue and nourishing his muscles and growth. The cycle continued for a full hour. Katherine narrated each battle and ensured Oz didn’t grow weak or fatigued. Soon her story came to an end.

Eventually Stonewall Jackson crushed the USA and a peace was established. The enemy general, Erwin Rommel, surrendered and signed an armistice. To prevent war from breaking out again, both parties nominated a mutual friend — Winston Churchill — to become the supreme ruler of the world. Today he is —

Oz interrupted the story with a question. Who’s the USA again?

Oh, sorry, I forgot. Wait, didn’t I tell you?

“Oz forgot.”

The United Soviet Alliance… currently still one of the greatest superpowers in the world… er… well… it probably still is. I haven’t been out for awhile. The USSR is still around… according to someone’s memories.

You’ve been with Oz!

Katherine smiled at Oz lovingly. She stroked his head softly with the blanket. I’ve been in the Green Hills my love, I only came back because you touched my heirloom.

Oz can’t touch your hair.

Katherine rolled her eyes in Oz’s mind, but he simply responded by plastering a quizzical expression on his face. She sighed, and then remembered she had something specific to talk about. Oz, do you remember the box in the back of your mind?

Oz nodded while he dug.

That box is full of information, I couldn’t put everything in there… for some reason the memories you have from right before you… ummm… ended up in this beautiful wooden box… they wouldn’t fit. The box will open on its own when your mind is mature enough to handle the memories — and the emotions that come with them.

I don’t get it. Oz wiped sweat from his brow and kept digging.

Katherine put her hands on her hips and glared at him. Just don’t touch box dammit.

… You said the bad word.

Oz, promise me you won’t touch the box.

I promise!

Good, hmmm… what’s that? Oz look out! You broke through!

What? “AHHHHHH!” The screams of a toddler filled the air as sunlight fell on his flesh and eyes for the first time in his life. The little boy tumbled down to the bottom of the hole he dug, in desperation to get out of the sun’s rays. Tears and snot were everywhere as he whimpered and huddled in a corner.

OZ!

He shivered and shuddered as Katherine comforted him. The blanket wrapped around him, its light flowing into him and slowly but surely, rocking him to sleep. As he slept the blanket covered his body, shielding him from the sun. Noon turned to sunset and sunset turned to night. The stars were out. Oz opened his eyes and after a lot of coaxing, he started to crawl up the hole. Soon he saw the faint lights peaking through the opening in the ground. His previous traumatic experience with the great outdoors all forgotten, he oohed and aahed and exclaimed excitedly.

“Mom, what’s that?”

I won’t answer if you don’t call me by my name.

He pouted, but curiosity soon got the better of him, “Kathurine… what’s that?”

Those are stars Oz, come, let’s get out of this hole and see them!

“Okay!” Oz clutched the blanket in his hand and dragged it with him out of the hole. His bare feet touched grass for the first time in his life. For the first time ever his eyes saw something other than a box. He didn’t know how to react. He was overwhelmed. He just stood there, staring up into the sky and feeling things he had never felt before. Everything was so innocent, so beautiful.

He was so absorbed in the moment he didn’t notice that he dropped the blanket. Or that it started to wriggle and deflate, turning into a thin blue mist. Or that the mist took the shape of a woman, slowly but surely, gaining colour and form. After a few minutes the beautiful auburn woman Oz had seen in his mind so many times had appeared in the real world. She stretched herself. Wrinkled her nose and then gingerly walked up to the invisible barrier of air she detected around them. When Katherine walked passed him, he nearly passed out in shock. As her hand slowly touched the wall of wind separating them from the outside world she sighed, “There are two walls, one here and another on the other side of this water…”

Oz shouted.

“SOOO COOOL!!! Mom! When could you do that?”

“I’m not your mother,” Her voice, like the tinkling of silver bells, stunned him. It was more beautiful than in his mind. Her red hair danced in the moonlight, the light unable to fully show off the beauty of every lock. Katherine turned and bent down, cupping his face in her hands she smiled. Dimples on full display. She kissed his forehead lightly. Oz blushed. And tried to pull away, but she snatched him and kissed his forehead over and over again. He was powerless to resist! None heard his screams as he was smothered with love. After a few hundred more kisses, she relented and let him go. He darted off and stuck out his tongue. She smiled. With a wave of her hand the dusty patchwork kimono floated up from the hole. Oz was mystified.

He couldn’t help but ask, “Mom are you a cultibanator?”

She wrinkled her face at him and grinned, “Not quite, I am a wizard. A Wizard of Light. Hmmmmm… the colours on this thing are ugly.” She touched the kimono and a soft blue light washed over it, bleaching the outfit. She felt the kimono's storage pocket with her finger and let out a sound of surprise, “To think that you were holding these treasures all along… Hmmm… I couldn’t see the memories from your last night very clearly… They were too… fresh. But it looks like you had quite the eventful night.” She breathed deep and whispered, “Duo.” A light flashed and the white kimono replicated before Oz’s eyes. The second kimono much smaller and clearly meant for him. She put it on him.

“I don’t want it!” He struggled and eventually flung it off. His bird dangling in the wind as he stomped around the grass in anger.

“Now don’t you want to look handsome and marry a nice girl?”

“I’ll marry you!” He jutted out his lip in protest. She faltered. But fastened the kimono around him more aggressively than before. He squealed but let her finish. The rough fabric was now soft to the touch. She straightened him out. Dusted off his shoulders and adjusted the sleeves.

“Perfect, now, I’m going to hide this other one okay? I’ll tell you where it is when you’re seventeen, or eighteen. Hmmm… I’ll let the box decide.” She snapped her fingers and the kimono vanished. Then she poked his head and he felt the box in his mind open, a soft light materialized in his mind and darted into the box. It closed. He scratched his head in confusion. She lunged and kissed him suddenly on the cheek.

“That was to remember me by.”

“… What do you mean?”

“I have to go Oz… I hope you never forget me.”

“Mom, what are you talking about, I — AHHHH!”

Oz yelped as she flicked him on the forehead, her voice was stern and hard, “I am not your mother.” Her eyes flashed mischievously, “Although things weren’t too different back then from how they are now.”

“… Back then?”

Katherine smiled and placed a hand on the wall of wind, she beckoned with her other hand, “Come, give me a hug.”

“Mom… I’m scared!” Oz didn’t know why but his heart had clenched in his chest. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. The box in his mind was dancing with energy threatening to burst. His legs froze, and his breathing almost stopped. But he heard her voice call out to him again.

“Oz… come here.”

As if on instinct, like his body was hardwired to respond to that voice, that soft smooth voice. He moved. One step at a time and wrapped both his arms around her and started to cry. His toddler sobs tore through the night.

“Oz, I’m going to get you through this wall, okay? Then you’ll be free… Please, for my sake, survive.”

“Survive?” The word came out between small sobs, but it was intelligible.

Katherine reaffirmed her words, “Survive.”

Her hand stroked his black hair. Her pale skin contrasting with its dark colour. Her green eyes looked lovingly at him. She waited for him to respond, softly playing with his hair. Eventually, Oz nodded, his hands clutched her blue summer dress tightly. Her body was warm. So warm. A different kind of warmth than just heat. Being with her, being near her, it made him feel so warm inside. So alive.

Katherine smiled, closed her eyes and whispered in a voice that sounded like the murmuring of frogs, “Lux in tenebris lucet.”

A light flashed.

The heat in Oz’s body grew, soon, his body began to shine with a blue light. He opened his eyes but couldn’t see anything. He tried to cry but couldn’t. He tried to call her name, but he was unable. It was like he was moving through time and space, while not being part of time and space. Like he was walking underwater, he felt his legs and arms move. But he was not in control. He passed through the shimmering wall of air like light through a window. Then he felt his body lurch, like the feeling of jumping off a cliff. His stomach bunched into a knot. And he collapsed in a heap, on the other side of the wall of air. His body drenched with sweat and blood pouring from his ears. He saw a blue light tickle his face. His pain vanished. He heard a voice. He didn’t know why, but when he heard it he cried. Harder than he had ever cried in his little life. The words were soft and sweet. But they pierced him in a way he could not understand. The box of memories in the back of his mind roiled and rocked but remained shut. He cried. He cried with all his might. He could still hear that lovely voice whisper in his ears.

I love you Da Shan.

The light dimmed. The voice faded. She was gone. Tears streaked down his face, he could not fully comprehend what had happened. Who was she? Where is she? He felt a void in his heart, a void that he didn’t know how to fill. He started running, he didn’t know where. He had to find her. It was dark. He was alone. The dim beckoning lights of the night stars seemed more menacing. The soft grass felt like it was cutting his feet. He ran. He ran. Shouting all the while.

“MOM!”

“MOM!”

“Mom, I’m sorry… pl… pl…please come back!”

“MOM!”

“Kath… Kath… uhrine!”

“Forgive me…”

“Don’t… don’t leave me alone…”

He cried. Then he remembered. The hole! She’s back in the hole! He turned and sprinted back towards the hole. But after running in the forest for a little bit he discovered something, he didn’t know where the hole was or where he’d come from. He started running frantically and with reckless abandon. Smashing into branches and tripping over roots in his panic. But fate was smiling at him. He stumbled to the clearing and saw the dingy little rope bridge and a patch of land, surrounded by water. He remembered this wet stuff. He’d seen it before. He was intimidated. But gathering his little courage he marched to the water, only to be stopped by an invisible wall of air. Startled he tried again and again. Then he cried. And cried.

“Let me in Mom… please…”

His voice called out over and over again. But her red hair was nowhere to be found. He shouted. He sobbed. He tried everything.

Soon exhausted from his crying he crumpled into a little ball, but his sorrow made him unable to sleep. He kept mumbling the same word over and over again: “Mom.”

Then, he heard voices in the distance. First a dull murmur, then they became distinct. He heard the barking of a dog and the footsteps of two men. Then there was the smell. The horrid smell. They reeked of blood and cruelty. Their voices came closer and closer, soon he could make out their words.

A gruff booming voice declared matter-of-factly, “The pension is pretty good I tell ya.”

A thin weaselly voice responded. “Eh, come off it. It’s pretty bad! Ten ducats a week?”

“Well just take out what you need from Social Security and you’ll ‘ave more than enough!”

“Ya can’t collect a pension and Social Security at the same time!”

“What? Why not?” The gruff voice went higher at the nasally man’s response.

The nasally man sighed in exasperation, “The Union ain’t stupid, they reduce your Social Security using some bizarre algororthium to calculate the reduction.”

“So I can collect both?”

“No you can’t.”

“But you just said I could, but that it’d be reduced.”

“Well if it’s reduced you can’t collect it.”

“What… I don’t understand…”

“That’s because you’re supposed to let me do the thinking for you.”

The gruff sounding man scratched his head at this remark, then shrugged. The two men marched on through the woods and arrived at the clearing. The bigger man scratched his head again and in his gruff voice spoke to his companion.

“Bruv… what do you think about the latest election cycle? Personally I — Hey stop it you!” The dog on the end of the leash started going wild. He desperately tried to rein it in, his bulging muscles contorting from the exertion. The man called Bruv giggled at the scene.

“Ehehehehe… well lookie here Tiny Tim, your damn vegan workout doesn’t look like it’s ‘elping you that much.”

“Oh, shut up Bruv, us Warlocks always ‘ave weaker bodies…”

“Weaker than a dog’s?”

Tim grinned sheepishly as he strained on the leash, “I genetically modified him, used a Blood Mana Crystal and a Braithwights’ soul.”

“That’s freaking disgusting… I love it! Hehehe!”

“I knew you’d understand Bruv. Oh, this is what he’s freaking out about. It’s a little boy… Hmmm… maybe we could use him in a lab experiment. Is he dead? Go check. I’m worried now.”

Bruv shrugged his shoulders and then began in a lecturing tone, “Now, let’s not lose sight of our goal… We’re here for McCarthy’s secret stash… Oh… he’s awake. Oh, look at the poor thing, hey, Tiny Tim! He’s so bloody scared he just pissed ‘imself.”

Oz’s little eyes looked up and he saw a spindly boney looking figure looming over him. The man wore a long dark green trench coat and a black top hat. On his hands were black gloves and his shoes were white and black — dress shoes of course. The man’s pupils were grey and his hair wild and wiry, his cheeks gaunt.

He beckoned over the bigger man, a man almost twice his size and well over seven feet tall. He wore a white button-up long sleeve and green overalls. On his head he wore a dark grey bowler cap, but the most distinguishing feature was his bulging muscles. In his one hand he held a leash, at the end of which was a rabid dog. A dog that didn’t look much like a dog at all. It resembled something like a bear crossed with a German Shepherd. In the other hand he held a walking cane, that for some reason didn’t sink into the grass — no matter how much weight he put on it.

The skinny man, Bruv, called over, “Come on Tim, dammit, put down the dog and come inspect the goods!”

“Right, right.” Tim walked over to a nearby tree and lashed the dog to it, the beast whinnied and frothed and foamed at the mouth. Its eyes glaring at Oz like it was staring at a hunk of meat. Tim ignored its pleas and walked over and bent down to look into Oz’s eyes.

“Hmmm… young boy… you seem a little familiar to me… those eyes…”

“Tim… you’re creeping me out.”

“Bloody ‘ell Bruv, I don’t want to eat the kid! I swear I’ve seen ‘im before!”

“Right… whatever you need to say.”

“Dammit Bruv, you know my experiments are only half as bad as yours!”

Bruv smiled wickedly, his taunt skin making him look like a grinning skeleton, “Let’s tie ‘im up to a tree, we’ll collet him on our way out.”

“Seems fair enough.”

“No let me go! I want my mom!” Oz shouted loudly, more from fear than courage. But the two men just sneered at him. He kept calling out, “MOM!”

Bruv patted him on the cheek gently — interrupting his cries, “You want your Mum? Hmmm? You want to see ‘er again?”

Oz nodded. Terror evident in his eyes.

“You can’t, she’s dead. And I killed her!” He hissed at Oz, his eyes alight with violence.

Oz froze.

Bruv then tied him up and dragged him to a tree — just out of the range of the dog. When the skinny man returned to where Tim was standing. He placed his hand on the wall of wind and closed his eyes, as if deep in thought.

“Why’d you say that Bruv?” Tim stared at him, a little bit of shock in his eyes.

“So ‘ee’d stop squirming.”

“Oh. Right. Carry on.”

“This wall is very strong. McCarthy’s probably sealed up a portion of ‘is wind to make this.” Bruv rubbed his hands together with anticipation. Then started rummaging through his pocket.

Tim poked the wall gingerly, “A portion of wind?”

“Yeah… most Elemental Cultivators increase in power by having more and more of their element in their command. Some of the weirder elements work differently. But McCarthy’s a standard Wind Cultivator. ‘Ee probably can control all the air in the Sect… maybe even the whole province.”

“Damn.”

“He doesn’t use his power too much though… so it’s hard to know… sneaky little elf-skin ‘ee is…” Bruv scowled as he stared at a staff he pulled out. He put the staff back in his pocket and continued searching.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, remember when ‘ee killed our old boss, Melecandor? The Wizard?”

“‘Ow could I forget?” Tim stared reverently at the ground, in memory of his old boss. Bruv continued after their impromptu moment of silence.

“He used brute force and some martial arts to knock him out. Then he disembowelled ‘im with his bare hands… didn’t use an ounce of Wind.”

“Damn… I didn’t notice that.”

“That’s why I told you to let me do the thinking for you. Anyways, should be able to make a hole in this. Let me just get my —”

“AHHHH!” A child’s scream resounded in the night.

Both men whirled around as the noise shattered the peace of the night. It was the deep blood curdling cry of a dying animal. It was the basest and most primal sound, a cry of desperation. It was Oz. The dog had somehow gotten loose and had pounced on the boy, Oz had tried to hold the dog back with his hand — instead the dog had swallowed his left arm whole and was chomping on his shoulder.

“DAMMIT BELVADEAR! I WILL GUT —”

“No, it’s okay.” The skinny man placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, as his face warped into a sadistic grin, “Let’s just watch the show.”

Oz in his panic, frantically pushed on the dog with his other arm and flailed wildly. The animal, seemed to be laughing at him and shook him like a ragdoll. Blood sprayed onto the grass and Oz’s voice became weak. But he fought on. Then the dog yelped. Somehow, Oz’s fingernail had scraped the beast’s eye. It went wild. Placing its paws on Oz’s chest it pushed Oz’s body down to the ground and then the dog tilted its head back with all its might. The sound of tearing human flesh filled the night as the dog ripped the flesh of his arm, then a sickening pop as the bones in his shoulder joint were forcibly separated.

Thankfully Oz had passed out, so he didn’t feel the pain from that final moment. His body hung limp, blood gushing from the wound. The dog made a sound that resembled a throaty chuckle. As if delighting in the suffering it caused. It extended a snakelike tongue and licked the torso of the unconscious boy. Its bloody maw opened wide, rows of jagged teeth exposed to the moonlight. It went in for the kill. But then to the shock of Bruv and Tim. It just fell over. The dog staggered to its feet and fell over again. It lifted its head weakly to only fall again to the ground and start convulsing. Tim almost charged over to check his dog, but was stopped by Bruv, who whispered softly to him.

“We ‘ave company… play it cool.”

At that moment a skinny elderly black man, wearing grey pants and a black leather jacket bolted into the clearing and put his head to the chest of the boy. Soon after a young black woman stumbled out of the forest — with slightly less grace — her voluminous curls and hazel eyes visible in the light of a full moon. Her grey trousers and black blouse blending in with her dark skin and the night. It was Ed and Edna — they had been out on a romantic evening walk, and Ed had decided he wanted to visit Da Shan’s grave. They arrived just in time to see the boy lose his arm — immediately they took action. Ed killed the dog with a series of mind blasts and then bolted into the clearing to check on the dog. Edna rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a strange looking rod. After determining the boy was alive, Ed turned the boy on his side. The black man reached into an interior pocket of his jacket, his lack of shirt exposing his boney chest to the nighttime air. He pulled out some matches and lit the rod in the woman’s hand. It lit and burned with a radiance that illuminated the dark. She held the burning rod to the bleeding stump that was the boy’s shoulder. Then paused right before contact.

Edna softly cooed to her husband “Put him to sleep baby, make sure he doesn’t wake up yet. This is going to hurt.”

The man nodded and placed his hand on the boy’s head. The air around the hand distorted for a moment. Then returned to normal.

Seeing the distortion Tim whispered to Bruv, his eyes narrowed, “‘Ee’s a Psycher…”

Edna cauterized the wound. The sound and smell of sizzling flesh almost made couple sick. The other two men had no reaction. Edna blew out the rod and stashed it. Ed crumpled some pills in his hand and sprinkled them on the affected area, healing the burn. The boy needed some Blood Pills — and fast — or he might die from blood loss. He also needed professional help, at his age, randomly prescribing medicine could kill him. But there was another matter at hand. The couple moved Oz gently to a tree, and then turned and faced the two men. The air was full of tension. The two pairs stared at one another, hostility evident in Edna’s and Ed’s eyes.

Then Bruv leaned over to Tim and whispered something that made the bigger man smile, “She’s a mortal.”

Tim took off his bowler cap and bowed towards Edna, “‘Ello poppet.”