Will walked through the halls of the Institute, a cloud of gloom hanging over him. Having his heart crushed twice in just three days was beginning to weigh him down. He was physically and mentally exhausted, and the energy runes didn't seem like they were helping anymore.

Now that Jem had made his and Tessa's engagement official, his thin glimmer of hope was snuffed out.

And to top it all off, Cicely had shown up. He was more confused than ever. He had spent the last hour with his little sister, explaining everything. She seemed to believe him for the most part. But there was a certain coldness about her that Will was certain wasn't there before.

But he could hardly blame her.

Will sighed heavily. Now that he knew the truth, could things go back to normal? Now that he didn't need to keep up his image, would they accuse him of having changed? Say that he wasn't the Will they knew?

He really wasn't ready to come clean about his history with Marbas, or how he was responsible for Ella's death. What he needed was some time to think.

"Will?" a tired voice called from a short distance behind him.

He turned, and was greeted with the sight of Charlotte standing in the corridor. She looked like her joy from earlier that evening was spent, and she was studying him with a worried expression.

"Oh, Charlotte," he mumbled in response.

"Is everything alright?" she asked as she approached him, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Yes," he replied curtly.

"You can talk to me you know," she said, looking completely unconvinced by his answer.

"It's alright, there's nothing wrong," he insisted, biting back his emotions.

"Will, you've been here for years now," Charlotte sighed as she crossed her arms. "Please give me a little more credit than this."

Will swallowed hard, desperately trying to think of some sort of satisfactory response.

"It's just that….." he trailed off, suddenly short of excuses.

Charlotte nodded, waiting patiently for him to continue. Damn, he needed time to think. Alone. Then a thought came to him.

"Charlotte, what if Tessa isn't the only one that Mortmain's created? What if there are others with abilities like her?"

Charlotte's eyes widened.

"I-I never even considered…..Will, we need to look into this immediately. Tomorrow I want you and Jem to-"

"NO!" Will all but shouted.

Charlotte jumped. She stared at him, a puzzled expression suddenly replacing her previously shocked one. Will bit his lip.

"I-It's just," he stammered. "I don't want to take him away from Tessa. I want him focused on his wedding. Let me do this alone Charlotte."

"Will," she sighed heavily. "I really think you should have Jem with you."

"I can do it Charlotte, I promise to stay out of trouble."

"Alright," She whispered, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Just please be careful Will."

He could feel the corners of his mouth slip up a fraction of an inch, though it was also accompanied by a pang of guilt.

"Thank you Charlotte," he said, turning on heel and rushing down the hall.

Charlotte stared after him in shock. Will had…..thanked her. She must have been more exhausted than she realized. But now she had this to worry about.

She hoped, and not for the first time, that Will was wrong.

XXX

Cia frowned at her reflection. The mirror was cracked, fracturing her image. She scrunched her nose in annoyance before tugging the locks of hair on the right side of her head out of its braid.

"Why won't you lie flat?" she sighed in half-hearted annoyance.

She eventually gave up, tugging the left braid out as well, letting her long toffee colored hair fall in slight waves down to her hips. It had been months since she'd last had a haircut. She swiped her bangs out of her eyes impatiently, wishing she had something other than a short frayed black ribbon to keep her hair in place.

She sighed heavily, resting her chin on the cool surface of her vanity table.

Weak sunlight pooled on the floor of her room through the two windows on my left, bathing the space in different shades of grey.

She hated this room so much, even though it is the nicest one she'd ever been in. She tilted her head to the side, gazing longingly at the sky, and if she focused hard enough, she could make out the occasional glimmer of the wards where there should be glass.

She had learned of their existence the hard way.

It had been her third night at Miss White's house…her first lesson. She had been in such shock, the pain was immense, and she had been completely terrified.

She had tried to run for it, but unfortunate for her, the first item Miss White had tested her abilities on was metal. It had intensified the shocks from the barrier by so much she had been bedridden for the next few days, having nothing to do but stare at the ceiling and wonder how the other kids at the orphanage were holding up without her.

A sharp rapping sound brought her back to reality.

"The mistress is ready for you Miss Davis," a monotone voice floated through the walls.

Cia gave a hum of acknowledgement as she stood.

She smoothed out her lose fitting black trousers, which would be considered a scandalous dress choice, even with the thin layers of lace that flowed from her bodice. It only reached her knees, allowing her to move easily during her lessons with Miss White, while maintaining some feminine element to distract from the fact that she was in fact, in a pair of men's trousers. She laced her white boots quickly; knowing full well what would happen if she was late.

She walked briskly to the door, throwing it open to see Miss White's favorite, and seemingly only, maid Hattie. Even through all these months at Miss White's house, the one thing Cia could not get used to was Hattie. There was just something about her that reminded Cia of this one boy in the orphanage who had somehow gotten hold of a small gerbil, and had squeezed it until it's eyes bugged out.

Hattie greatly resembled the poor creature, right down to her mop of sandy hair and bulging eyes.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the image and closed the door behind her, following Hattie down the brightly lit halls of Miss White's mansion in silence. Before long, they reached the trapdoor that would lead down to Miss White's training room.

Hattie pulled the door up with little strain, allowing Cia to slip down the worn wooden steps. Her feet had barely enough time to touch the ground before the door fell closed, engulfing the her and her surroundings in total darkness.

Torches blazed up around the massive room in sparks of blue, green, and purple flame.

"Good morning Docia darling," a melodic voice sighed, breaking the silence.

Cia looked up, seeing Miss White hovering on the other side of the room. She looked bored, her pitch-black eyes examining her well-manicured nails. She was decked out in her normal attire, a black and white gown with a strip of white fur hanging around her neck. Her ice white hair was pinned to perfection in ringlets, set off by a band of black pearls that matched the string that decorated her slim neck.

"Let's get on with it then, shall we?" she asked, once she was sure Cia wasn't going to answer.

Cia just picked up the nearest object on the floor.

A lead pipe. She concentrated on the prickling feeling that proceeded to trail up her arm, and within a span of fifteen seconds, it was covered in a thick film of metal.

She rushed forward, watching carefully for the sparks of lightning and fire that crackled and shot from Miss White's palms.

She saw a glimmer in Miss White's eyes and quickly ducked behind a large cluster of boulders that were placed in the arena. A loud explosion sounded, shaking the ground beneath her. Cia covered her mouth with her still human arm, trying not to breathe in the dust and dirt.

Her eyes stung, but she jumped from her hiding place anyways, using the dust cloud from the explosion as a smoke screen. She caught a glimpse of white up ahead, and charged, not allowing herself to think of how good it would feel to finally land a blow on Miss White.

Cia had been engaging in these fights for seven months, and always lost.

She knew Miss White was a master warlock. That was the reason she was being held here. She was meant to be molded into the ultimate bodyguard. Her captor was ruthless, and wasn't afraid to discipline her through these fights if Cia acted against her.

If she wasn't so convinced that the master she was being trained to serve was infinitely more powerful than Miss White, she'd love to use these newfound abilities to slap him off a bridge and into the Thames.

But something had been off about Miss White in these past three weeks. Her attacks had become random and sporadic, as if something else had occupied her thoughts. She lost her temper quicker, and was more prone to having meltdowns.

She had seemed more dangerous to Cia this way. At least before she knew to a certain degree what to expect from her captor. But in the past few training sessions, her hair and clothes would be repeatedly singed and burned, some attacks even breaking through whatever protection her abilities had provided and scorching her pale skin.

Angry red marks decorated her legs under her black stockings and across her back. Some blows from Miss White's magic escalated to welts, but she only had the time between her daily training sessions to heal. Sure she now had access to some wonderful salves to speed up her recovery. But it never seemed to fail.

Once one mark vanished another replaced it within the next two or three days.

There was a fresh sear of pain as a bit of fire licked across her cheek, bringing Cia back to reality.

But nonetheless, Cia fought with her full extent, still knowing full well that just like any other day, she would lose.

XXx Author's Notes xXX

Well…I don't think this went half bad for my first attempt. Let me know what you think!

See you next time! -Jade