Chapter Ten

Aftermath

James couldn’t believe what he was hearing: an attack on the school? Someone dead? The things that James and Elizabeth had just done seemed pointless now. He stood in the same spot for quite awhile, not wanting to move into the Orphanage any further. He felt that the place had been tainted, somehow. Sullied by an unspeakable evil.

‘Surely they couldn’t have just walked in,’ Xavier reasoned, ‘we have protections, enchantments!’ 

James saw Fletcher shake his head. ‘All failed. Their strength… has grown, Xavier!’ the Headmaster said. ‘They just smashed down the door and started tearing the place apart!’ Fletcher was distraught; emotion gripped his face and voice as he continued, ‘Well, naturally, the staff split in two, half hiding the students, the other half fighting back. Golda and I held them in the main hall until Barabius returned with more Fealu Hleo. 

‘He brought a Halig Beorn as well. Well, we battled as hard as we could,’ Fletcher shook his head. ‘They’ve become much more powerful, Xavier. Much more! They split up and broke away from us, we tried to cover them, stay on top of them… I-’ he stopped, unable to go on. 

Xavier placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘I’m sure you did everything you could have,’

‘I was right there when it happened,’ Fletcher whispered. He didn’t look at Xavier this time, but into nothingness, haunted. James could see the sparkle of tears in his eyes. ‘They just struck him down; he was trying to get away and they just struck him down… It was evil magic they used…’ the Headmaster trailed off again, a tear running down his face. 

James felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably. Seeing their Headmaster in such a state threw him off balance.

‘Tobias, have you added more protection?’ Xavier asked, his voice still shaky. 

Fletcher nodded and pointed past James and Elizabeth. A man in an old fashioned blue, pinstriped, suit stepped up the stairs and into the entrance chamber. James gave a start as he saw him, not knowing who he was – he thought for a moment he could have been more bad news. This notion was quelled as quickly as it had come when Xavier and Fletcher both sighed and stepped forward to greet the man.

‘Domogart,’ Fletcher breathed as he held out a hand to greet the man. 

The suit-adorned man had a weak smile on his face as he took Fletcher’s hand, shook it firmly, and then did the same as Xavier held out his own hand. Domogart then brushed his mane of long, messy, brown hair out of his brown eyes and spoke, ‘I’ve just set up some more charms, Tobias. I think we should also set Holy Crosses about the premises. The last thing we need now are evil spirits coming in and tormenting the children.’ The man spoke with a smooth accent. He stopped and looked at James, then Elizabeth. ‘And these are?’ he asked, trying to smile.

‘Elizabeth Hartwell and James Newt,’ Xavier introduced. 

The man in the blue suit shook each of their hands in turn as he introduced himself, ‘Domogart E. Augustus. You two are our Gatekeepers in training, are you not?’ 

James nodded weakly. 

‘My goodness, Fletcher, these children look terrible,’ Domogart said sympathetically, ‘that’ll be the trauma. Perhaps I best add another layer of protection around the mansion; a dream filter maybe.’ 

‘Barabius and I will take care of that,’ Fletcher said tiredly, he still looked weakened, but now composed. ‘Domogart, you escort James and Elizabeth to their respective dormitories. You will be the best one to ward off any lingering Demons that have snuck their way in.’ 

Domogart nodded, pulling a wand from his pocket. ‘Right, let’s go then. Always moving, never still,’ he said with a sigh. 

They started off, up the stairs, and down a long corridor. It seemed that the rest of the mansion had not been left untouched. Paintings and statues were strewn about the corridor, broken, or burning with magical flame.

‘We can’t put out the fires,’ Augustus remarked, indicating a pile of paintings in a corner quietly burning. They walked in silence for a time, moving slowly down the hallways. The silence was broken by the sound of footsteps on the wooden floors. 

James turned with Augustus, to see a beautiful woman walking toward them. ‘Preacher,’ she said as she stepped up to Augustus.

‘Yes, what is it, Metta?’ he asked. 

The woman held a bleeding hand gingerly as she spoke, ‘Fletcher asks that you come to the hospital as soon as you are done escorting Hartwell and Newt. Golda has been asking for you.’

‘Alright, Metta, I’ll be right there,’ Augustus said. 

The woman nodded, eyed James and Elizabeth strangely; then turned and walked back the way she had come. 

Augustus and his charges started down the hallways again. Elizabeth spoke, her voice uneven from her long silence. ‘Why did she call you Preacher?’ she asked, looking at him from beside James. ‘I thought your name was Domogart.’ 

Augustus smiled and shrugged. ‘It’s just a nickname,’ he said.

‘Why? Are you a Preacher?’ Elizabeth pressed. 

Augustus looked at her and gave a little laugh. ‘Me?’ he asked pointing at his chest. ‘No, no. I am religious.’ He pointed out. ‘And the nature of my work requires that I use my religion and my magic together. But no, I’m not a preacher… I do teach Sunday School though,’ he finished with a bright smile.

‘Oh,’ Elizabeth remarked. A few more moments of silence and they had reached the entrance to the Panther dormitories. 

‘I’ll see you tomorrow then,’ Elizabeth said to James. 

He nodded in reply.

‘It was nice to meet you Miss Hartwell,’ Augustus said. ‘I just wish it had been under better circumstances,’ he added. 

Elizabeth nodded, smiling a tired smile; then, turning, she disappeared into the dormitories. 

‘Mister Augustus,’ James wondered after a few minutes of walking.

‘Yes James?’ 

‘Are you the same as Bloodstone?’ James thoughtfully asked after a moment. He had tried to pick a better wording, but had been unsuccessful.

‘The same? Oh you mean am I a Fealu Hleo?’ he clarified. 

James nodded.

Augustus shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘We perform the same tasks; protect against the same threats. But our methods are different.’

‘So you are a Fealu Hleo? A – a Dark Wizard?’

Augustus looked to him wide-eyed and surprised as he pursed his lips. ‘A Dark Wizard?’ he asked. ‘Who told you Barabius is a Dark Wizard?’ 

James felt his ears turning red. ‘I heard it somewhere,’ he said, not wanting to explain that a Stone-Hound with bad English had told him, and that he had believed him; at least, not if Tyre had been wrong.

‘Well, whoever said it must not have their English down pat,’ Augustus assumed as they turned a corner and stepped over a smashed statue of a frog. ‘Fealu Hleo means dark protector, not Dark Wizard.’

‘Dark Protector? Is that any better?’ James asked. 

Augustus smiled. ‘He doesn’t protect darkness, he protects people from darkness. As for me, I’m called a Halig Beorn; its rough translation means “Holy Warrior”. A bit grandiose if you ask me.’

The two walked the rest of the way in relative silence, briefly discussing James and Elizabeth’s new class.

‘Here you are,’ Augustus said as they reached the statues of the Centaurs; one’s head lay a short distance away on the floor, the other was in good shape save be for a missing arm.

‘Thanks,’ James said as he reached for the door. 

‘James,’ Augustus called after him. 

James turned to look at the rough-looking man. 

‘Try not to dwell on what happened here tonight,’ Augustus offered, ‘it can do no good to examine this tragedy.’ He looked seriously at James. ‘At least… not tonight.’ 

James nodded. 

Augustus turned and started away. James turned back to the door and slipped inside. There were many people in the sitting room, mostly huddled around the fireplace, which crackled as it burned, sending out warmth to those nearby. James didn’t look at any of them; instead he headed straight for the dormitories, slipped into his room, and laid down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

The crackle of fear that James had felt burning within him subsided slightly as he saw Eligh sleeping in the bed across the room. The Witches may have taken the safety of James’ home from him, and a fellow orphan, but they had not taken one of his only friends. He felt selfish for admitting it to himself; those thoughts mingled with the rest of the events from the day as James, uncomfortably, fell into a troubled sleep.