This takes place a year after Out of the Shadows. I suggest you read it before you read this, otherwise it may not make sense. Some things have changed, while others remain the same. Mortimer has toughened up over the last year and there are many new students and teachers. I just had to do a sequel to this story because I really like the story line and I'm really proud of it. Plus, I just had to explore how Mortimer was faring at the school. So, enjoy.

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Unto Ashes
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"Begin."

Two young men stood opposite each other, bodies poised and ready, each waiting for the other to make the first move. One stood tall and confident, trenchcoat billowing around his lanky frame, cocky smile on his lips. The other crouched low to the floor, staff in hand, watching, waiting.

Quicker than one could blink, the tall Cajun flicked his wrist and three sparking, once-ordinary playing cards whistled through the air towards his opponent. The crouching Britt deflected the charged cards with his staff, then used it to vault over the Cajun's head.

The shorter man yanked the card-dealer's feet from beneath him with his long tongue, gave his staff a twirl, and grinned. The fallen Cajun pushed his long, red hair from his eyes and frowned slightly. Then the smile returned. He sprang to his feet and pulled an eight-inch metal bar from inside the voluminous coat. He gave it a twirl and the two ends slowly lengthened.

Both men's smiles suddenly vanished as they focused all their thoughts on the battle ahead. The shorter man's second blow was blocked and immediately retaliated. The opponents slowly made their way around the room, spinning, flipping, neither one gaining a significant advantage.

Off to the side, gazing through the glass window, a small crowd had formed. The young people watched the fight in rapt fascination, admiring the unique skill that each man brought to the battle.

There was a loud crack as the staffs met in a cross. The red-headed man took advantage of the standstill and kicked his foe in the side. His blow hardly fazed his adversary, as the man tripped him and somersaulted away.

The short man held his staff two-handed in front of him and the Cajun saw his chance. He threw an ace of spades towards his foe and watched with satisfaction as miniature missile hit the staff right between the Britt's gloved hands and split it in half. Discarding the remains of his staff, the young man crouched into a defensive posture and waited.

The Cajun came towards him, staff whirling so fast it was a blur, and attacked. The British man caught the end of the staff in mid-air and ripped it from his opponent's unprepared hands. He spun and hit his foe with a powerful, roundhouse kick, knocking him to the ground.

Mortimer Toynbee jumped onto his fallen adversary's chest and pinned his arms to his sides with his knees, much the same way Logan had held him down when he snuck up on him a year ago. He held the staff lightly across his defeated opponent's throat and allowed himself a small smile. "You surrender, LeBeau?"

Remy LeBeau grinned at his friend. "Oui, mon ami. Remy knows when he's beat. Now," he said, starting to laugh, "get off!" Mortimer quickly climbed off his friend, tossed the staff away, and reached out a hand to pull him to his feet. Remy accepted the hand gratefully. Once he was standing he dusted himself off and turned to his friend.

"Tre bien, homme. You're getting better." Mortimer nodded his thanks. Both jumped at the sudden sound of clapping. A dozen or so of Xavier's students were behind them, clapping. "Wha-?"

Rogue spoke first, an awed look on her face. "John was walking by and he saw ya'll sparring. He came to get the rest of us. Ya'll are amazing." Beside her, John nodded vigorously. "I had no idea you guys could do that!" One of the guys in the back, Sean Cassidy, a hyperactive young man native to Ireland, spoke up. "Aye, where did ye learn to fight like that?" he asked.

Mortimer and Remy looked at each other, then pointed behind the students.

"Him."
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Emma Frost stared out the window, arms folded across her chest, concentrating hard. Her lackeys stood behind her, awaiting their orders. "Mystique." She said, turning to the female shapeshifter. "I need you to recover the files Magneto had on the x-men. They may be of use to us. It is always wisest to know your enemy before you engage them."

"The x-men will be a push over, Frost. They are no match for our team." Emma glared at her. "So says the former member of the defeated Brotherhood." Mystique looked at her in a way that would make the Devil shudder. The White Queen, however, merely gave her a icy smile. "Just do as I say."

Mystique left the room, peeved, and Emma dismissed the rest of her followers. She turned to window and rested her forehead against the cool glass, imagining the sight of the x-men dead at her feet.

'Soon, Charles. Very soon.'
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Okay, I realize Banshee is NOT a teenager originally, but then neither are Rogue or Pyro. I'm also aware that Mystique is NOT a member of the Hellfire Club, but the Club members in the comics were boring, so I'm replacing them. Okay? Okay.