The eyes. The eyes always knew. Looking back now, it makes sense. The gold flecks. An emerald green that's a bit to deep. Young eyes that looked like they had seen everything. We passed them off as oddities, peculiar looks in an otherwise normal world. The fact that it seemed to pass down between generations suggested it was nothing more that your typical genetic trait. But the truth was there, in the eyes.

The young man sat quietly. Fingers drumming on the side of the ornate chair. Tapping slowly, counting the seconds. The cars passed quietly outside his estate. People milling about, unaware of what was to come. Peaceful, or as peaceful as the world could get. He had tried to keep it going. The world wasn't ready for the return, but how could he stop it? The spell was powerful, shielding the world perfectly from the mythics. He even managed to convince them of their humanity. But it also sealed away magic itself. And while he had put so much into the spell to begin with, there was no way to maintain it. It had lasted centuries. Only a handful of people knew it was possible, and even fewer knew it had happened.

He reached over and picked up the small piece of parchment. A note he wrote to himself all those years ago, to remind him of what had happened. If he hadn't lived this long, he might not believe it. But time kept marching on. A knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts. Before he could stand, two men barged their way in, dragging a screaming woman with them.

"Is this the first one?" The man asked.

"Yes sir. Started 2 hours ago, already showing signs of degeneration. Non-cooperative, obviously." The man who spoke had large red gashes down his right arm.

"I'm sorry for what is happening." He looked into her eyes. Ice blue. A perfect match to her hair.

Along her arms fell gold scales. A single, perfect row. They followed their entire length, ending at her fingertips. From them came sharp talons. Had she been standing still, he would have seen that her light skin was actually a fine layer of scales as well.

"She's already in the advanced stages. Did you happen to get her name?"

"Smith"

"Augh. A commoner name. I had hoped for Formen or Sandres."

"Do you think their magic could help?"

"It can't stop what is coming, but they could at least ease the pain. Take her upstairs. I don't want word of this leaving while we still have secrecy."

The young woman continued to protest, but all that came from her mouth was a growl.

The hours passed, and still he could hear her. She had run out of things to break, but that didn't stop the roars. No other reports came in. He was beginning to wonder if there had been a mistake. Even if the initial tear had been contained, there should be others. The weave of the spell was thin, and it wouldn't take much for it to tear elsewhere. The ringing phone made him jump.

*click*

"Anderson speaking."

"Another one's been found. Watforn. North Dakota."

"Is it contained?"

"For now. It's a basilisk, so I don't know for how long."

"Shit."

*beep*

"Got another call. Let me know if the situation changes"

*click*

"Anderson"

"We got one in Dieppe"

"Vampire?"

"Good guess."

"Contained?"

"I'm afraid not. Still hunting him down, but no promises."

"It was bound to happen."

*click*

He slumped into his chair again. 700 years, and it finally fell apart. What's more, if the lady upstairs was any indication, it was going to be rough. In a couple generations it would self-correct. But as it stands, these people genuinely believe themselves to be human. Add in a dash of magic, or in the case of a dragon, a lake full, and things were never going to go well.

But... Perhaps this was a blessing? A spark of an idea began to form in his head. It would take time. And the right connections. But if anyone had those connections, it was him.

"Milfred, can you fetch me some tea?"

The aging butler nodded and made his way out of the room. He would need an example. Someone to show that things had indeed changed. The whole point of the spell was to create cooperation. It was never intended as a permanent fix, but with the right twist, he might be able to make it work anyways.

Several calls later, he was standing before the heavy oak door. The roaring had stopped, and when he pressed his ear to the door, it seemed quiet. Cautiously, he unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

"Can I interest you in something to drink?"

She glared in his direction. Clear membranes flecked across her eyes, but otherwise she remained still. In the nearly 7 hours since her arrival, she had gained two small horns on her head, a tail nearly as long as she was tall, and a pair of small wings, covered in the same gold scales, but with a royal purple membrane crossing them.

"What did you do to me?" She fought to ask the question, her tong far to long for her mouth.

"To you? Nothing. You have always been this way."

"Bullshit!" The word turned into a growl.

"It's true. You're from a family of dragons. By the coloring, I would guess Strix." He gestured to the gold scales that adorned her skin.

"Dragons aren't real."

"There are may myths we believe aren't real. That was the intent. Had I done nothing, it would be the truth. I only did what I had to."

"So you did do it."

"All I did was hide the truth. From everyone. Without the right notes, even I would have been oblivious to it. The truth is, there is nothing I can do to stop it. Not anymore. The weave is breaking, and soon every mythic will be reviled."

"There are others?"

"Yes. Millions. We might even outnumber natural humans now." Her eyes lit up when he said that. "It could be enough to ensure we are safe, but I'd like to be sure. I have a plan, or the workings of one anyways. It seems that your resistance to accept the truth has had an effect. I know there will be others like you. My hope is to have you act as speakers for our kinds. Ambassadors, if you will."

She said nothing, so he waited. She was thinking about it, clearly considering the option. A slight twitch in her tail told him what he wanted to know.

"We have already found a way to identify others. If we move quickly, we can prep them before things begin to happen. But having someone with them would help."

She nodded.

"You'll be helping countless people. You, of all people, understand just how scary it is to not understand what is happening. We don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Of course." She nodded to the tea set nearby. "May I?"

"Certainly." He handed her the cup, still steaming. "I need to make one more call. When your ready, come on down stairs and we can get started."

"Nora"

He stopped, the word coming expectantly. "Sorry?"

"You never asked my name. It's Nora. Nora Smith"

A smile formed across his face. "Bradly Anderson."