Mr. Ross sat at his desk reading the article Soto showed him again on his computer. He analyzed it, carefully looking over every detail. No matter how many times he stared at it, he couldn’t help but be amazed by the language, as if it was trying to sell a beat-up car. 

The article tried hard to make it sound believable, but there was one problem. The author was anonymous, just like the victims and suspects. The only name that was mentioned was the academy. The writer wanted the audience to know it was about Ashthorn, yet it couldn’t be bothered to tell who was involved. Not only that, but the news station didn’t seem to exist. It didn’t show up in any search engine.

It was fake.

Ross was doubtful that Crawford had the intelligence to create a fake website. If she was working with someone, then whom was it? He knew he wasn’t the favorite among the students and staff but wasn’t the most hated either. If someone was teaming up with Crawford, they either despised him as much as she or Crawford blackmailed them.

Staff and teacher won’t believe her, but that won’t matter once word gets out about this nonsense.  It would be the biggest scandal the country had known. Meyer would have loved to smite Crawford down, saying it would be the easiest way out, but Ross told her it would only cause more issues. If it didn’t, Crawford would have been fired already. This gossip was the only thing keeping her in Ashthorn. The moment it dies, she’d be gone.

Meyer’s fury was understandable. When Ross told her about the article, the first thing she did was drive straight to her apartment at a swift pace without dropping Ross off. Unlike her, he lived within town limits. Ross said nothing when she parked her car and headed towards her home. After several minutes, Meyer returned with a bandaid wrapped around her knuckles.  At least now, she took her anger on her items rather than someone else's. 

Wineman won’t help him the second time, not like Ross asked for his help in the first place.  Since the article didn’t mention his name, he should be fine, but for now, Ross had more important things to do.

He closed the computer window and opened the PowerPoint of today's lesson. How fitting that it was about DNA. Ross’s mind drifted to the Ruin magic sigil placed on the Ouija. The DNA result from the plasma won’t come until a few days. The agency’s scientists were able to extract DNA from magic, specifically from sigils. Sigils were like fingerprints to a magician. Science had not advanced enough to take samples of magic when casting.  Taking fragments from the spell might be less effective as magical plasma was delicate and could be dissolved when touched. Plasmas from sigils were neatly packed together, making it easy to take samples.

However, it wasn’t DNA in a human sense. Magic worked the same way as light, being both a particle and a wavelength. It bends and breaks to the caster's will, so these plasmas were energy produced by the magician's soul. These plasmas were also called mana. However, some prefer not to use mana as it sounds too fictional. It was funny how a bunch of lab coats that study creatures that most consider to be makebelieve think the word “mana” was too childlike. Whatever they call it, “mana” or “plasma” means little to Ross. It was the same thing either way.

Ross carefully traced his finger on his desk, stopping midway from finishing the sigil. The hex placed on the Ouija was an advanced Ruin symbol. Ruin magic wasn’t as rare as Aracane, but it was still unique, and a human being able to create a sigil like that must be skilled in the dark arts. Magic was not evil, but Ruin magic had a bad rep over a few millennia due to its spells and rituals. Upsetting as it was, Ruin magic was the only type that could perform necromancy. Arcane could connect to the soul like Ruin magic but never raise the dead as Ruin users could.

The local police were too busy questioning Sarah’s friends, and Ross was sure they wouldn’t give him different answers than they were already giving them- that a black shadow engulfed her and pushed her out the window. The cops were probably going to determine her death as an accident, but due to the victim’s injury, it would be challenging to rule out murder. 

The autopsy showed cuts around her arms and legs, and although that could be from the fall, the bruising on her neck and her bones being crushed as if she plummeted from the sky could not be ruled out. There was no way that was from dropping a second-story building. In other words, Sarah’s death was not from ordinary means. 

And if what her friends said was true, then it was most likely supernatural. A ghost, not even a poltergeist, wouldn’t be powerful enough to kill someone. This was most likely demonic. However, even with them playing with the Ouija, it shouldn’t have caused her death. Even if Sarah were a medium and mistakenly summoned a demon, it wouldn’t have caused her to die like she did.

That was how the hex comes into play. Ross knew that type of Ruin sigil was a death sentence to anyone who used the board. It could be mistaken as another sigil that magicians use to contact the dead. Mediums were naturally gifted in the art of spirits, and not all magicians can perform Arcane magic. Ruin magic has spells and rituals to conjure spirits; however, the type of spirit was random. The mage could summon a friendly or demonic entity.

But, this type of sigil was a trap, as it confined the user's soul, keeping them from leaving the physical world and making them wander forever until someone destroys them.

Dealing with the dead always backfired, meaning the mage that marked the Ouija must be a master of death magic; if the magician weren’t skilled, all those kids at the séance would have died, yet they were alive and traumatized. That would mean Sarah was the target.

But where did the Ouija come from?

According to the IDS agents infiltrating the police, Sarah had a business card on her. It was yellow with age, and the edges were soft and flaky. The address wasn’t far from Ashthorn, but it would be closed when school was over; not like Ross needed to wait until school ended, but with the rumor growing, it was best not to be suspicious. 

The students who dislike him would love to use the rumors to their benefit. But would any of his students hate him enough to do this, even working with Crawford to drag his name into the dirt even further?

It hadn't gone that far yet. The only name that had been going around was about how much of a liar Crawford was, but due to the article being anonymous, who could say that all she said was a lie? Who could say the academy didn’t orchestrate her to convey that apology?

This anonymous bull was really going to be troublesome.

Churro's ears twitched as students shuffled inside the room like a pack of sardines. Mariel was the last to arrive, alone without Ellis behind her. Ross didn’t think much about it, but Churro seemed confused. His button eyes widen with curiosity. It was rather strange for Ellis not to be with her since he had always been by her side since he arrived, like a wandering stray. Though, it could be that Mariel wanted to be by herself.

Mariel told Ross during the study period that she was worried about her friend, Lorrie. Lorrie had been acting odd lately, and today, she was absent. Mariel said she was sick, but Ross could tell that Mariel didn’t believe that. She wanted to visit her right away, but Ross wouldn’t allow Mariel to skip class based on her gut feelings. She could visit Lorrie after class. Lorrie’s aunt and uncle wouldn’t mind as the girls have been friends since middle school and sometimes spend the night at each other’s houses. 

If it were an ordinary house, Ross wouldn’t have let her, even after he put a protective sigil on the house, but Lorrie was the exception. She was one of the students the agency kept a closed eye on. The agency doesn’t usually watch espers with passive abilities, but Lorrie was unique. The IDS couldn’t tell if she was a psychic, medium, or both. Her connection to tarot cards was unlike any other. One agent reading her file compared her to Nostradamus, but that was a bit of a stretch. Even though her readings were mostly accurate, Lorrie never predicted world-shattering events unless it was from an individual. 

But a single individual didn’t have the power to destroy the world. At least there hadn't been one since the early 1900s.

Even if Lorrie foresaw it, it can be changed. No matter how accurate a reading was, the future wasn’t straight. There were many paths and forks on the road of a human’s fate and destiny. The power of the soul was indeed a powerful one.

The school bell rang loudly, pulling Mariel and Ross's attention to the empty seat beside her. Ellis still wasn’t there. Mariel raised her hand, but Ross shook his head, knowing what she would ask. The answer was no. She wasn’t Ellis's responsibility, and being new wasn’t an excuse for being lost; he had been here for several days without help. Ellis should now know where his classes were.  Mariel frowned, putting her hand down.

Ross sighed, turning his head to his familiar. The rat nodded. His black eyes shined playfully at what his master ordered him to do. Churro didn’t understand why his master cared for Ellis or if he was just doing this for his sister. Either way, it would be nice to be out of this cage. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big enough for a rat like him.

Churro rushed to his little house under the tiny plastic ramp and teleported out of the classroom and into the desolate halls. Ross would disapprove if he used his powers within sight of students. Churro did it once, but Ross convinced the student the rat was still there, sleeping in his little dome house. No one was going to believe a vanishing rat. If only Ellis were easy to sway, but that kid was too stubborn for his own good.

Ellis, the stubborn and possibly useless boy Churro sought, had a particular smell. Like Mariel, his aura gave off a scent due to his soul; however, it wasn’t as pleasant as hers. It smelt like burnt wood, an unusual odor for a supposed human. If he was some type of monster or a hybrid, Ellis could smell auras, but it seemed that he couldn’t

If Ellis could smell auras like a beast, he would have been more fearful of entering the agency headquarters than he already was. The creatures within that facility were enough to make Churros’ fur stand.

Churro lifted his nose to the air, taking a big whiff as he tried to find Ellis’s scent in the sea of smelly, hormonal teenagers. He gagged a little before finding the trail that he was looking for. His tiny feet scurried across the white tile as he dashed towards the dreadful stench.

This kid was already twitching Churro’s whiskers.

I got this fanart from Tethyka Rinehart, the creator of Guardian Kayden. I love this art, especially the owl

Thanks again :)