Side Story: Kestrel, Sanctuary’s Caged Bird

--- Kestrel ---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he opened his mouth as he checked the mirror to find all of his teeth were in perfect order.

Swallowing, he opened his medicine cabinet.

---

“Ah, good you’re awake. I was worried you’d end up sleeping in after yesterday.” His commanding officer -a tall imposing man in white and gold- told him with what he knew was a smile despite the mask covering the older man’s face. “Now come along nephew, we have a big day today making the world a better place for everyone.”

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he opened his mouth as he checked the mirror to find the tooth behind his canine missing.

Letting out a sigh of relief he got ready for the day.

---

He looked down on the criminal group below him, a small group of criminals possibly linked with Covenant, but definitely linked to a series of dangerous summonings throughout the city. Namely in the fact that they were occasionally selling the wrong catalysts to people and thus unleashing a number of eldritch horrors upon the city.

His uncle wanted those Catalysts, hence why he was here.

A few flaps of his wings and a twist of magic had him appearing behind one of the criminals before using his staff to fire a stunning spell at one of his compatriots and wrapping said staff around the criminal’s neck to choke him out.

The third of their group finally noticed him and pulled a gun -a curiosity for the magical black market- but hesitated to shoot when he noticed his comrade between them.

He shifted his grip on his staff before sliding his arm around the criminal’s throat and swinging his staff to fire off a quick spell at the third knocking the man unconscious.

Letting the criminal in his arms fall limp he sent out the signal for pick-up and moved to secure the box of catalysts.

That was when the fourth criminal made themselves known.

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he checked his left bicep and found not a mark on it.

Swallowing, he opened his medicine cabinet.

---

“Isn’t he a bit young to be here?”

“What you haven’t heard of the little prodigy?”

“No?”

“That’s Agent Kestrel, he's the youngest Agent in Sanctuary. Completed the final exams at sixteen.”

“Shit. Is that even legal?”

“Apparently, he’s the captain’s nephew or something.”

“Damn, guess nepotism really does run everywhere.”

“Yeah, here we are risking our lives and his uncle probably has him on all the easy assignments.”

“Well, I can’t really blame him there. After all, as young as he is, he probably has no real experience.”

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he checked his left bicep and found a number scarred onto it in jagged cuts.

Letting out a sigh of relief he got ready for the day.

---

His hands began moving as he worked to dismantle the spell, one that if let loose would endanger everyone within a mile because the person who designed the spell had thought it a good idea to mix a weak soul-stealer into the code without giving an offload point.

Meaning that instead of a small distraction as the criminal had likely intended, the thing before him would continue to grow with every person it hit until the square cube law meant the area of effect was taking up more power than the spell could sustain.

Which given the fact that they were in a city was still a very big effect.

His hands paused as an idea occurred to him before he began adjusting the parameters of the spell so that when it went off in the next thirty seconds instead of starting with half of the building it would be confined to just the room he was in.

If he managed to reduce how much energy it had to begin with, then even if he couldn’t shut down the spell, he could at least minimize its damage by limiting the spread to just this apartment.

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he opened his mouth as he checked the mirror to find all of his teeth were in perfect order.

Swallowing, he opened his medicine cabinet and pulled out a pair of pliers.

---

“This truly was a brilliant design you’ve discovered Kestrel.” His uncle praised going over the notes he’d made about just what he’d done to the Mass-Soul-Stealer circuit he’d shut down.

“You should be proud of what you accomplished with this.” His uncle assured him with a smile. “I don’t quite think you understand how much you saved by doing this.”

He shrugged, after all he was just doing what he had to nothing more, nothing less.

“Hmm, how about as a reward I show you a spell I believe you’ll find quite useful.”

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he opened his mouth as he checked the mirror to find the tooth behind his canine missing.

Letting out a sigh of relief he got ready for the day.

---

Gripping his staff tightly, he focused on where he wanted to go before feeling a pulling sensation along his flesh and suddenly finding himself sitting in the back of the truck his targets were using.

He quickly wrapped himself in a thin cloak of magic, obscuring himself from view before taking a seat amongst the criminal’s merchandise in a place none would discover him until the criminals had already driven him to their base of operations.

All he had to do was wait for his moment of opportunity before calling in the other Sanctuary agents and soldiers. A simple enough task that nothing could go wrong with the mission.

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he checked his left bicep and found not a mark on it.

Swallowing, he opened his medicine cabinet and pulled out a small razor.

---

“Hey, have you ever seen Kestrel without his mask?”

“No, why?”

“He lost it yesterday during a mission and guess what?”

“If this is about how young he is, everyone knows he’s basically a kid.”

“No, no. He’s got like… solid gray hair and these reddish-purple eyes.”

“So, he’s an albino or something?”

“No, his skin had like a tan to it and I could swear his eyes were glowing.”

“Well he is a Deviant, some of them can look pretty weird.”

“Yeah, but I heard he can’t actually do magic so I figured he wasn’t really a Deviant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard? It’s not actually him doing magic, it’s his staff.”

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he checked his left bicep and found a number scarred onto it in jagged cuts.

Letting out a sigh of relief he got ready for the day.

---

His staff went flying as the Arcane’s summon crashed into him like a car before slamming him hard enough into a brick wall that he was fairly certain he felt several ribs break.

As the beast pulled back from him he spotted his staff laying on the other side of the beast, too far for him to reach before it could trample him. So instead he grabbed a glass bottle off of the ground, and forced himself onto his feet.

If he wanted to catch the escaping criminal he’d have to do enough damage to the summon, that the Nexus evaced it back to wherever it came from.

And so he smashed the bottle against the wall, leaving it with a number of jagged edges as he looked the beast in the eye and did his best.

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he opened his mouth as he checked the mirror to find all of his teeth were in perfect order.

Swallowing, he opened his medicine cabinet and pulled out a pair of pliers before using them to grip the tooth behind his canine.

---

“Your last mission was… a failure.” His uncle told him with a sigh. “Now given how well you’ve been doing, I won’t have to give you the usual punishment seen of someone who lets a criminal of this scale escape, but I still do need to punish you lest they see my… favoritism, you understand?”

He nodded, forcing down whatever he was feeling.

“Good, because as punishment you’ll be getting something of a timeout.”

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he opened his mouth as he checked the mirror to find the tooth behind his canine missing.

Letting out a sigh of relief he got ready for the day.

---

He slapped another Creep out of the air as it tried to lunge at one of the Sanctuary Technicians working to shut it down the Bleed spawning this horde of monsters, all while he and the other agents did everything they could to protect the technicians as they worked.

With a burst of magic it shot the Creep through the chest with a beam of red energy -killing it dead- before sweeping the beam across several other nearby Creeps, cutting a small wave of destruction as he wiped the monsters out.

A shout from nearby had him turning to see a young soldier with a Creep on top of him, clawing through his armor.

He spun his staff in hand before swinging it with a wave of wind as he blasted the Creep off of the soldier, before blasting once it was a safe distance from its would-be victim.

Unfortunately, this left him open as another Creep got the drop on him instead.

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he checked his left bicep and found not a mark on it.

Swallowing, he opened his medicine cabinet and pulled out a small razor before putting it to the flesh of his bicep.

---

“Oi, leave why don’t you two shut the hell up!” A voice interrupted the gossiping whispers that followed him everywhere he went. “Can you believe those people? Act like they have nothing better to do than gossip about the kid who could kick all of their asses.”

He tilted his head as the newcomer began walking in step with him.

“Glad to see you’re still alive after that invasion, you took a pretty nasty blow after saving me.” The person told him, causing the phantom ache of claws on flesh to move across his neck and torso.

“Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for that.” The dark skinned man continued before offering his hand. “Name’s Miller, Varian Miller.”

He stared at the hand for a moment before accepting it. “Everyone calls me Kestrel…”

“Yeah, but that’s not your real name is it?”

“...”

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he checked his left bicep and found a number scarred onto it in jagged cuts.

Letting out a sigh of relief he got ready for the day.

---

With a twist of magic, he found himself once more shifting from his mistaken namesake into his true form as he landed on the truck smuggling illegal M.A.D. tech across state lines.

His staff clung to the truck roof, with barely a flex of the power he channeled through it, and as he held on with one hand he used the other to guide a thin line of magic out of the staff so that he could cut through the roof of the truck.

Once the metal had fallen inside, he maneuvered himself inside before lighting the end of his staff aglow and finding himself surrounded by crates on both sides, a small path separating them just enough to walk through.

Sticking his staff into one of the crates, he pried the lid off before checking its contents.

Inside he found equipment commonly used by Bio-M.A.D.s to grow their various pets and began collecting samples for his uncle to study, knowing the man would want something to tie everything together in case the main raid didn’t go as intended.

After dropping a tracker into the crate, he put the lid back on and used his magic to make it look as if the crate had never been opened before moving onto the next one.

Everything went to plan until he opened the fourth crate and found a live bomb inside of it.

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he opened his mouth as he checked the mirror to find all of his teeth were in perfect order.

Swallowing, he opened his medicine cabinet and pulled out a pair of pliers before using them to grip the tooth behind his canine and ripping it out as the taste of blood filled his mouth.

---

“Another failure…” His uncle sighed, tossing the report on the table. “What’s more this failure led to the loss of valuable equipment and a waste of manpower.”

His uncle gave him a look before shaking his head. “I know you can do better than this, have done better than this, nephew. You know I’m going to have to punish you after this? Don’t you?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Just be glad I talked them out of what the higher ups wanted to do. If they had their way they’d just remove you from my custody altogether.” His uncle told him as he stood before stopping halfway. “That… That isn’t what you want is it?”

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he opened his mouth as he checked the mirror to find the tooth behind his canine missing.

Letting out a sigh of relief he got ready for the day.

---

He smashed the feral Deadman’s skull beneath his boot, sending glowing green scattering in all directions before blasting the head off of a second one that had been about to lunge for Miller.

“Whoa, shit…” Varian gasped from the sideline, before looking around. “Everyone still alive?”

“No one dead, one injured.” He reported, walking over to the down, but still living soldier. “Move your hand.”

It took a moment but eventually the soldier nodded before removing their hand from the bleeding wound on their forearm.

Channeling magic through his staff, he placed a hand over the soldier’s injuries and watched as they slowly began to stitch themselves back together.

“Glad we’ve got you with us.” Varian told him. “That bite looked like it would’ve been a nasty thing if you weren’t here.”

“It needed to be treated, if the injury was allowed to fester any residual ectoplasm could’ve poisoned her.” He explained as he stood before looking down at the soldier. “You should evacuate her.”

“What?” Varian frowned.

“I can complete the mission on my own, but I have no way of knowing if I got all of the ectoplasm. You should evacuate or else she might lose the arm.” He elaborated, without pointing out that this mission would be significantly easier for him if he didn’t have to watch all of them.

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he checked his left bicep and found not a mark on it.

Swallowing, he opened his medicine cabinet and pulled out a small razor before putting it to the flesh of his bicep, the latest in a string of numbers that he could not let himself forget.

---

Varian opened one of the books his uncle had given him to go over for an upcoming operation.

“Shit, I knew you were smart but I didn’t realize you were this smart.” The sanctuary soldier admitted, flipping through a few pages.

“It’s not that impressive.” He frowned, knowing that this was honestly a pretty basic subject. The only reason he was studying it at all was because of an upcoming operation where the spell outline should help him accomplish his goal.

“Kes, I’ve been looking into magic stuff to apply for the Agent program and this, this is more advanced than anything I’ve covered in three years of self-study.” Varian told him before pointing to a fairly basic spell circuit in the book. “I mean look at this thing, a ‘dimensional compression charge’ followed by an ‘imaginary circuit weave’? I have no idea what any of that means!”

“A dimensional compression charge would be a spell undoing an expansion effect or sealing a dimensional space by folding it in on itself. An imaginary circuit is essentially a spell engine that produces a secondary series of circuits within an imaginary space, while the weave bit references that said engine will be used to stitch the compression shut.” He explained, barely glancing at the book he’d read years ago. “It’s all basically a way of shutting down Rifts or Bleeds with magic, in case the tech fails.”

“And why don’t we have every Practitioner and Arcane learning this spell?” Varian asked with some amazement.

“The energy costs are obscenely inefficient in comparison to the tech solution.” He answered before elaborating that, “No practitioner foci has that much energy and all but an A Rank magic capacity will be drained fatally dry in the attempt to cast it.”

“Okay,” Varian closed the book and gently pushed it away. “Why exactly are you learning this suicidal spell?”

He shrugged. “My Uncle had an idea for offloading the energy costs by siphoning off the energy of a secondary target, similar to how the tech solution siphons the energy off of the Rift or Bleed we’re trying to close.”

“Ah… Your uncle is a magical genius, I guess it makes sense he’d find a work around to this spell killing someone.” Varian nodded in understanding.

“He’s still looking for an opportunity to test the theory before putting it into practice.” He pointed out rather than arguing the fact.

Varian was silent for a moment, leaving him to go over his books, before eventually speaking up after a few minutes.

“Hey, uh, Kes, you think I can ask a favor?”

He gave the sanctuary soldier a curious look.

“You mind teaching me magic?”

“Sure, no problem.” It’s not like it was anything special.

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he checked his left bicep and found a number scarred onto it in jagged cuts.

Letting out a sigh of relief he got ready for the day.

---

Walking through the warehouse belonging to the Merchant Enforcers, he swung his staff creating a wall of magic to block the numerous bullets being fired at him.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Varian cursed from nearby. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this!”

“My uncle always trained me by throwing me into the… metaphorical deep end, I think?” He admitted with a tilt of his head. “This honestly isn’t that bad in comparison.”

“Maybe but I’m pretty sure there’s a difference between a fight against a Sanctuary Agent and one against a Sanctuary Captain!” Varian shouted while making the hand gestures Kestrel had taught him.

“Just be glad I’m trusting you to man up on your own.” He told his friend. “If I was more like him, I’d enchant you to be indestructible and throw you at them until they surrendered in discomfort… or horror, still haven’t figured out which it was on their part.”

“Wait, he seriously did that to you?” Varian blinked, losing concentration and causing his spell to collapse.

“That was a half-truth, I was trying for comedic effect.” He bonked his student on the head as he made another barrier. “Focus, I’m dropping the wall in fifteen seconds, have yours up or you’ll be getting shot.”

“Shit, fuck, uh, give me a second.” Varian pleaded as he sped through his hand signs.

“You’ve another ten… nine… eight… seven…”

“Not helping!”

“Six… five.. Four… three…”

“Shit, shit, shit!”

“Two… one… good luck.” He dropped the barrier and blinked to the otherside of the warehouse, well out of the range of being shot himself.

“Fuck!” Varian cried, throwing his hands forward and forming a wall of sludge from seemingly nowhere just as the bullets began impacting.

“Mm, you can do better!” He shouted to his friend. “Just because you’ve earth and water, doesn’t mean you need to make mud!”

He blinked back to Varian as the Enforcers turned to shoot him.

“Then again, if you learn to manipulate the balance you could do some interesting things with a couple of learned concepts. Hmm, something to consider. ” He admitted, quickly shooting a few of the Enforcers. “Try for offense now.”

“Offense? What the fuck am I supposed to do for offen- Oh, shit!” Varian yelled as a quick levitation spell sent him flying into the middle of the Enforcers. “You asshole!”

As he crashed into the ground Varian and the Enforcers looked at each other for a moment, before the fledgling magic user threw out his hands and pushed all of the Enforcers back with a wave of colored muck.

“Hmm, not bad.” He nodded, sending out a few idle stuns to make sure the Enforcers stayed down. “At the very least it’s good enough to pass the Agent entry exams.”

“W-wait, seriously?” Varian gasped, losing his anger to shock.

“You’ll still have to do the guns, teamwork, and tactic exams, but you’ve been a Sanctuary soldier long enough to have all of that down pat.” He confirmed, before noticing something.

His hand shot out and he threw Varian to the side as a gunshot rang out through the warehouse.

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he opened his mouth as he checked the mirror to find all of his teeth were in perfect order.

Swallowing, he opened his medicine cabinet and pulled out a pair of pliers before using them to grip the tooth behind his canine and ripping it out as the taste of blood filled his mouth.

With that done he placed the pliers back where they went before grabbing the razor blade laying next to them.

---

“Kestrel!” Varian shouted upon seeing him. “You’re up and moving already?”

“Healing magic.” He shrugged, knowing there was a fair bit more to it than that.

“Oh, that’s good.” His friend sighed. “After the other day I was worried you weren’t going to make it.”

“I’ve taken worse and gotten back up.” He admitted. “A couple bullets aren’t going to leave me in the grave.”

“Still… when I had to report the situation to your uncle I nearly had a heart attack.” Varian shivered. “That man is deeply protective of you.”

“Yeah…” He swallowed. “He… didn’t punish you for what was my idea did he?”

Varian blinked before rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, no. Kind of the opposite actually.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned, knowing how his uncle sometimes liked to play mind games to reinforce punishments.

“Well, apparently once I explained everything he was really grateful that I brought you back to base before you could bleed out. And once I told him why you were helping me out, he gave me a quick evaluation of my magic before nominating me for the next Agent exams.” Varian explained before sighing as he shook his head. “Which I’m not sure how to feel about since it kind of feels like nepotism for being your friend.”

“Don’t worry about that. My uncle isn’t easily impressed and if he really did an evaluation and nominated you, then that means he knows you’ll pass.” He assured his friend before giving a half-bitter laugh. “Trust me, he won’t bet his reputation on a failing spell.”

“That’s…” Varian ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, it just hit me. I'm taking the agent exams in a few weeks.”

“Correction, you’ll be passing the agent exams in a few weeks.” He argued, patting the aspiring agent on the shoulder. “And we’ll be using this next few weeks to guarantee just that.”

“What, by throwing me into another horde of enemies?” Varian smiled.

“Pretty much.” He nodded before considering it. “Though it’d probably be better to use a few demons and undead this time.”

Varian gave him a laugh before his smile slowly died. “Oh god, you’re serious.”

---

He stared at the door to the deepest chambers of his uncle’s private labs. The ones he’d been summoned to in order to talk about taking Varian out for their impromptu training session. Something that no matter how he rewarded Varian, he knew his uncle would be upset about.

Seeing no value in delaying the matter in further, he stepped through the door and made his way past a number of subjects suspended in glowing green vats, keeping each brain dead creature in a state of semi-life until his uncle released them for the next phase of his trials.

No matter how many times he walked this hall their eyes always haunted him, regardless -or possibly because of- the fact that none of them were ever alive in the first place.

As he neared the end of the chamber where his uncle’s primary computer layed, he began to hear the elder Arcane in the middle of one of his audio journals.

“The viability of subject C.E.-S.T.R.-253 has resulted in yet another failure, as the subject’s body yet again rejects the energy transference in a way that results in cancerous tumors commonly seen in overcharged healing magics. Once again I have failed to replicate the miraculous healing properties of subject 49, which even after repeating the procedure… eighty-three times now, has yet to show any signs of rejection, even going so far to maintain a slight regenerative factor that seems to vary based on the damage to the subject's previous iteration before transference.”

He could hear his uncle sigh. “Despite reiterating this at least twenty times now, it continues to remain apparent that subject 49 was more a product of luck than progress on my part. As even other subjects derived from the same base material, simply do not possess 49’s resilience to the procedure with the second most viable subject only surviving three iterations. As it stands I am likely still years from finding a work around that I feel safe using on myself.”

His uncle turned off the recorder before setting it on his desk and turning towards him, his uncle’s graying blonde hair and blue eyes apparent now that he wasn’t wearing his mask.

“Nephew, I was wondering how long you’d be.”

He bowed his head. “I’m sorry for the delay, uncle.”

“Quite alright.” His uncle nodded. “That said, I’m sure you know what this is about?”

“Bringing Soldier Miller with me into the field.” He answered, showing no emotion.

“Yes, and though it did result in me discovering a talent that otherwise would have flown under the radar for who knows how long, it also resulted in you being severely injured.” His uncle frowned as he stood from his seat. “You really must quit being so careless in the field with your fellows.”

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience my injuries have caused you uncle.” He apologized, fully meaning it.

“Your injuries are no inconvenience, and as long as you survive I will not fault you for any injuries that require my tending.” His uncle assured placing a hand on his shoulder before gripping it ever so tighter. “What I will fault you for however is how and why you were injured.”

“...” He could only stay silent.

“I’ve already debriefed with Miller, but do you care to tell me how you were injured?” His uncle asked in a way that told him he’d be in less trouble if he came clean.

“While training Miller I let my guard down and didn’t take the mission seriously, instead treating it like a game as I trained him.” He admitted with a small amount of shame.

“True… but given your own Affinities such a thing would be expected especially given our shared genetics.” His uncle told him. “No, it’s the other matter.”

“Other matter?” He repeated with mild confusion.

“Yes, the fact that this is not the first time you’ve suffered injuries on behalf of Varian Miller.” His uncle nodded while pulling up reports from the mission where he’d first met Miller and the one where half their squad had been injured to a Deadman.

“I wasn’t injured on the Deadman mission protecting Miller.” He defended.

“You were injured because you had him and the rest of his squad extract themselves from the field rather than risking further injury on their behalf.” His uncle glared. “If you had allowed them to continue with you in all likelihood you would have completed the mission with minimal injury.”

“But at least one of the other soldiers could’ve died if I hadn’t.” He argued.

“And I don’t care.” His uncle admitted grabbing him by his shoulders. “You are far more valuable to me than anyone in this base, in fact I would happily trade all of them for you.”

His uncle stared into his eyes before letting out a tired sigh as his only family walked around him and hugged him while running a hand through his hair.

“You can’t keep risking your life like this for others.” His uncle told him. “You’re one of a kind and I can’t afford to lose you.”

“I’m sorry uncle…”

“It’s fine…” His uncle assured him placing a hand on his jaw. “Just so long as you remember dear nephew…”

With his uncle’s hands on his head all he could do was focus on the file currently displayed on his uncle’s monitor, an ongoing experiment report with a very familiar photo and designation of C.E.-S.T.R.-IL.

His uncle began twisting his hands in opposite directions. “You are only allowed to die for me.”

---

He woke up with a gasp, before rolling out of bed and stumbling towards his bathroom.

Turning the light on, he opened his mouth as he checked the mirror to find all of his teeth were in perfect order and a glance at his bicep showed not a scar on it.

Swallowing, he opened his medicine cabinet.