Rising Force

Summary: The Conjuror's Board has called in Cedric and Sofia to inform them about an evil version of themselves, who are not only wreaking havoc across other dimensions, but who have also destroyed several of their counterparts. They must team up with their other alternate counterparts to take down the evil duo before they become the next victims on the list. (Collab with Mr. Shortman92)

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story. The Abstruce Realm and its inhabitants (especially Ceddy, Fia, and Little Berry/Nana), Nana, and Tanya belong to MarionetteJ2X. The Absentia Realm (including AR Cedric and Sofia, as well as Fayette), the Malverus Realm (including Raverian and Sophitia), and the Veretis Realm (including Red and Ced), AND this idea all belong to Mr. Shortman92. [Phew! Lol]

A/N: Okay, so this is definitely the first "modern" take on STF I've done, thanks to Shortman. This will be a rather interesting ride. Evil Cedric and Sofia were just asking to be written, and while many others have taken on the challenge, I've held off on it. Because I'm me… lol. But Shortman produced this idea, and it seemed intriguing enough, so…why not? :D Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Breakaway

There I was completely wasted, out of work and down

All inside it's so frustrating as I drift from town to town

Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die

So I might as well begin to put some action in my life

Breaking the law, breaking the law…

Seventeen-year-old Cedric Ingram absentmindedly mouthed the words that he heard escaping his radio, the static from the recent storm still interfering a bit with the sound. Still, it was a song he knew well, and no matter the state, he would continue to acknowledge it by singing along or at least pretending to.

It was 1998 in the Malverus Realm, or more specifically, in the town of Woodlandville, where he lived. Cedric's father Goodwyn was the CEO of a company called What Sorcery, which produced illusionary items to boggle audiences' minds and overstimulate their imaginations. Granted, Goodwyn himself didn't promote such a thing; the idea of 'magic' was a silly one, in his opinion, even though there was viable evidence of its existence. Honestly, even his own family line was rumored to have come from sorcerers, though it was hard to prove, given how many records had gotten lost in the Tech War of 1981. But that was neither here nor there…

Cedric's mother Winifred, who was a housewife with very little interest in traveling too far from her humble abode, seemed a bit more interested in magic than her husband did. However, she would never question the man's dislike of such a thing.

Still, while magic existed in this realm, technology had all but replaced it. It was a sad fact for magic enthusiasts like Cedric to face, but hey… What else was new?

Cedric was a tall, lanky teen with wavy black hair that barely brushed his collar, sharp brown eyes, and a rather fair complexion. He didn't exactly go outside much, except to his private school when his parents forced him to do so. He hated those dull blue and khaki uniforms. He hated his professors. And naturally, he hated his school as well. As far as he was concerned, it was filled with a bunch of posers with mommy's and daddy's money (though really, he wasn't exactly wrong).

The last several months, due to his own interest and admitted boredom with this pristine life his family had built for him, Cedric had explored a few…darker options the realm had to offer. With his sister Cordelia off to study at the prestigious Elshire University, he had been stuck at home with his overbearing parents. His father had especially been pressuring him to 'take his place in society' recently, but the teen didn't have the same path in mind as his parents. He just wanted an escape and something more, and he'd found it: dark magic.

As hokey as it sounded, it was a real thing, and a very dangerous thing at that. In fact, he had a healing scar on the back of his right leg from a spell gone awry about two months ago. When his parents had discovered him practicing the craft only a few days ago, they'd snapped every last wand he'd acquired, dumped all his potions, and destroyed his homemade spell book.

It was the last straw. The one thing he'd found for himself, whether his parents approved or not, had been snatched away from him before he could even blink. The older couple always found a way to make his life miserable, and this had just outdone him. So, while his parents were away at a company party (yes, even Winifred, for the occasion), Cedric was packing a small backpack, preparing to run away.

He didn't care if it was cliché for a teenager—an angsty ball of fury with strange eating habits and an even worse sleep cycle—to 'run away.' He had every reason to do so, as far as he was concerned. Goodwyn and Winifred Ingram ruined everything, and he didn't want to be a part of that family drama anymore.

Cedric dashed from his bedroom into the living room, which was immaculately decorated with mahogany and dark marble. There were plenty of portraits hanging around the room, most of which contained Goodwyn accepting awards and accolades of some sort, a wedding picture of Goodwyn and Winifred, a painting of Cordelia's graduation, and even one rather awkward family photo where everyone was smushed together with cheesy smiles except the brooding Cedric (who stood about a foot from the others with his arms folded and a deep frown on his face, his hair falling into his eyes). The old grandfather clock ticked on, the minute hand slowly making its way around the clock face.

He walked up to the fireplace, reaching up to the mantle, where a glass box lay. He removed the lid slowly, setting it aside, before reaching for a brown wand that sat on a bed of purple satin.

Cedric lowered the wand to his vision, smirking. This was the family wand, or so he'd been told. While his parents didn't practice magic (and sometimes hardly acknowledged its existence), they liked to keep the wand as a display and conversational piece. He had no idea if it even worked, but he sure as heck would try it out for his own benefit.

He pointed the wand toward a candle, muttering, "Illuminare." He smirked as the wick lit, a small flame flickering atop the waxy object. "Mm, perfect…" He walked over toward the candle, licking his thumb and forefinger, dousing the tiny flame with a hiss.

The teen hurried back to his room, tossing the family wand into his backpack before zipping it up and sliding his arms through the straps, tightening the adjustments to keep it steady. Then, he opened the window to his room (on the second floor), slowly climbed out, crept along the roof toward the edge, where he was able to jump from there to a large tree. He grunted as he landed on the large oak's branch, a few twigs and leaves shaking loose under his forced weight.

He slowly shuffled down the tree, the bark scraping him a few times as he did, and finally reached the ground before taking off running into the woods well beyond his cozy little neighborhood.

Cedric had only been on the run for a few hours before he made a decision: he didn't want to keep his name. Cedric was the name of a rich man's son, who obediently attended private lessons, practiced the violin, played and won every chess game imaginable, and never second guessed his parents' goals for him. As far as he was concerned, 'Cedric' was dead, and he needed a new name fast.

While he was walking through the thick foliage, he frowned as he came across a rather gruesome sight: a dead baby rabbit, its fur matted and marred by blood and other matter, its eyes glazed over, while three ravens greedily nipped at the tiny animal's body, blood staining their beaks. As disgusting as it was, he couldn't help finding the sight of the ravens powerful and intriguing…

He needed a name inspired by these birds… Something as an homage to their ruthless nature, as the raven was both majestic and frightening in nature.

"…Raverian," he finally uttered, smirking as the ravens squawked, almost as if in gleeful response to his choice of title. "I like the sound of that…"

And from that day on, Raverian was on his own, free to practice any dark magic spells and travel at his leisure.

And for twelve years, that was exactly what he did.

[Twelve Years Later…]

Sofia Caldaza-Winthrop was a fourteen-year-old student at the esteemed Connelly Academy in the city of Worthgate, about five miles away from Woodlandville. She had grown up poor with very little to her name, but her mother Miranda had at one point secured a rather well-off job as a personal assistant for none other than Roland Winthrop, owner of Winthrop, Inc. (a well-known jewelry chain that raked in millions of dollars a year), about six years ago. After a whirlwind romance that had lasted about a month, they eloped before combining their households into one rather extravagant mansion on the tallest hill in Worthgate.

Roland had two children of his own from his previous marriage (twins Amber and James), though they were away at boarding school. Though he'd attempted to get Sofia to attend as well, she preferred to stay near her mother, so he'd enrolled her at the best private school money could buy instead. While it appeared that he only tossed money at his stepdaughter, he did have something of a soft spot for her when she was younger, but her teenage years had absolutely changed that.

Sofia had become quite moody since turning thirteen last year, and whatever relationship she'd had with her mother and stepfather had drastically declined. She detested the school uniforms, which she felt took away her sense of individuality, and preferred instead to try out her own style.

Today, this Saturday afternoon, she was wearing a short pink skirt that stopped somewhere around her mid-thigh, a sleeveless lavender top that read Princess in glittering pink and white letters, and simple lavender flats. Her long auburn hair, which stopped somewhere just past her waist, was pulled back into a loose braid, one single strand dyed light purple (against her mother's wishes, no less). She saw it as a form of rebellion, no matter how small.

There were several things Sofia hated about Worthgate: the boring scenery, her school, the snooty rich brats who attended the school, the gated community, and the lack of freedom. She felt like a caged bird, shut away in her room most of the time unless she was going to school. Even now, on the weekend, she was locked away in her room, dreaming of getting out. She could only stare out the window of the third floor of their mansion, watching enviously as a flock of blackbirds rushed by her room.

"Ugh, lucky," she muttered, frowning as she shut the window and turned away from the outside world. She really wanted nothing to do with this place. She was only expected to hang around the higher class people and none of the lower class friends she used to have (it had absolutely killed her to cut ties with her childhood best friends, Ruby and Jade, but they'd insisted). Not to mention, her parents had also informed her that when she began dating, she'd only be allowed to date those in the same class or higher (with a great deal of money or inheritance, of course).

"I swear, it's like I'm living in the 1800s," she grumbled, walking over to her vanity, and peering into the mirror. She frowned, tugging her braid over her shoulder and absently playing with it. "I just want a life of my own… Is that too much to ask?" She turned when she heard a knock at her door. "Come in."

Roland opened the door and immediately frowned. "You're not going to my company party dressed like that, young lady," he insisted. "I won't have people thinking my daughter is a trollop."

"Stepdaughter, Roland," she reminded him, rolling her eyes and folding her arms. "And really, who says 'trollop' anymore?"

"You'll change, or you'll stay here." He checked his watch, silencing the beeping that was coming from it. "Ugh, we're running late. Baileywick's already gone to get the limo…" He tossed an expectant glare back at the teenager. "Well?"

"You know, I think I'll just stay here," she responded, pulling off her shoes and smirking at his annoyed expression. "You don't want me there anyway."

He scoffed. "Not with that attitude, I don't. It might be better anyway. I know you're failing geometry, so you should take the time your mother and I are gone to study." He straightened his necktie before adding, "We'll be past midnight returning. Don't pester the workers."

"Sure, Dad." She folded her arms as he huffed and shut her door perhaps a little too forcefully. "Jerk…"

A few hours later, Sofia was hanging off her bed, her head resting on the floor with the rest of her body slumped on the mattress. The blood was rushing to her head, but she didn't really care. She was bored. She didn't exactly have friends, so it's not like she could call anyone. And her mom had taken all her technology away last week when she'd gotten grounded for…something she didn't even remember anymore. Crashing the sports car? Or running over the cat statue? One of those things…

But still, if they paid a little more attention to her and actually acted like she existed instead of venturing off to their little parties nearly every weekend, maybe she'd be better adjusted. Huffing, she pulled herself onto the bed again, her cheeks flushed from the exertion, before sighing heavily. "…I'm done." Without another word, she jumped off her bed and moved over to her closet, pulling the door open. She withdrew a small suitcase and tossed it onto her bed, watching it fall open. Then, she started piling as many clothes in it as she could fit, a small toiletry bag, and lastly a doll that her birth father Birk had given her before he left. No matter what had happened between her mom and her real dad, she still loved him, so she kept the doll.

"Ugh, need money…" She tapped her chin. "Now, where does Roland keep that extra cash?" She smirked as something dawned on her. "I have an idea…"

While the workers were busy tending to the household (some even lounging on the sofa in the large living room while watching TV, which happened more often than one would think), Sofia crept from her room down the long hallway toward her parents' room. With the stealth of a well-trained assassin, she slipped into their room, hurrying over to a large portrait of Roland himself on the wall. She refrained from pulling a disgusted face as she flipped the painting aside, revealing a hidden safe.

She twisted the numbers, knowing full well that he had used his own birthday as the combination, and smirked as it clicked and opened. "Though why I even know the man's birthday is beyond me… He sure doesn't know mine." She frowned as she reached into the safe and pulled out several stacks of bills. After counting her handful, she realized she had $1,400 to work with. "It'll be fine."

She stuffed the money under her shirt and held it securely before moving out of the master bedroom and back down the hallway toward her own room. "Almost there—"

"Miss Sofia?"

"Rats," she whispered before stopping, turning to see the butler Baileywick watching her curiously. "What, Baileywick? I'm kind of busy here."

The older man shrugged. "I was just going to ask if you wanted some dinner."

She frowned as she felt a hollow sensation in her stomach. She was hungry, and Baileywick made the best food… But she couldn't stay. "Thanks, Baileywick, but I… I'm just kind of tired. I think I'll go to bed early."

"I see…" He nodded, almost seeming disappointed. "Good night then, Miss Sofia. Ring for me if you feel worse." He turned and headed back toward the kitchen.

Sofia truly liked the butler and hated lying to him, but she just couldn't take it anymore. Even he wasn't worth staying in this place anymore. She sighed softly before rushing back to her room.

About 11:00 PM, when the workers had retired for the evening, some leaving to go to their own homes, Sofia decided it was time to make a move. She shoved the money she'd stolen into her suitcase before tossing the expensive bag onto the ground below, hearing a satisfying thud as it landed on the plush grass. Then, she turned and maneuvered quietly through the mansion, bypassing the late-night security, before almost sneaking out one of the back doors that wasn't rigged with alarms—

"Miss Sofia."

"Ahh!" She turned, glaring daggers at the butler in front of her. "Baileywick, stop sneaking up on me like—" She blinked as he silently handed her a warmed bag. She paused before looking inside, seeing the evening meal inside. "B-Baileywick, I—"

"I can't say I blame you," he told her lightly, though he didn't elaborate. "No matter what, it has always been my responsibility to look after you, so I won't let you go hungry." He smiled sadly toward the girl, who looked away. "Be safe, Miss Sofia." With that, he turned and headed away, probably toward his own bedroom.

Sofia took a moment to compose herself, clutching the food to her chest. He'd let her go… With no question… She shook her head and left the large house, scooping up her suitcase as she ran.

Sofia was still only fourteen and fairly young, didn't have anywhere to go (no family or friends to run to), and also couldn't quite dismiss the sense of familiarity Worthgate had to offer. But she had to go somewhere, so she instead decided to travel to the other side of town, the more run-down area where she and her mother used to live before Roland became a fixture in their lives.

The teenager stopped only once to eat (a grilled cheese and tomato soup, which was one of her favorites). It filled her up enough to give her more energy. Then, she continued on.

She sighed happily as she came across a park where she and her childhood friends used to play. However, that happy feeling soon fled as she noticed how different it was now. Instead of being empty, as she would have expected this time of the evening, it was instead filled with older teens and adults.

Now, one thing about Worthgate? It had a bit of a hybrid population: magical and nonmagical folk lived in the same area together. She didn't know much about magic herself, but she knew when people were buying and selling illegal pixie dust, which was exactly what she'd just witnessed between an adult man and a younger boy.

She looked around and noticed that the park had basically been turned into more of a parking lot, which led to a seedy-looking building. One man was standing outside a restroom, other men paying him before being allowed to enter. Sofia wasn't necessarily sure what she was seeing at first, but she had a feeling she didn't want to know, either…

As she walked along, she eventually came across an area with what appeared to be a late-night party. Lots of young adults were gathered around, drinking and dancing to the pulsing music. Several drunken teens were sloppily making out against the walls, their hands all over each other. Just beyond that area was an older-looking car that was…moving? Oh, and the glass was fogging up, and—Sofia blushed heavily before hurrying past the car, realization dawning on her.

While walking along, she saw a shorter guy repeatedly beating up a much bigger guy, asking angrily, "Where's my money?!" When he got no response, he repeated his actions and question yet again, to no avail.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Sofia mumbled as she reached the end of the party-centric area. She was now in a much quieter part, but that somehow made her feel worse. It was like it was too quiet… She jumped when she felt a nudge at her arm, turning in surprise to see an older man in a business suit, though he was clearly inebriated. "What do you want?" she snapped, clutching her suitcase tighter. She'd learned to at least attempt to keep herself safe, and if being rude to a stranger would help, that's what she would do.

The man, wearing a nametag that read "Caledon" on it, just grinned as he slurred, "You, pretty girl…" He approached her, reaching out toward her with a small hiccup. "Come 'ere!"

Sofia couldn't get away as he grabbed her arm, no matter how much she struggled. She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to see whatever was about to happen as the man's face came close enough to her that she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

A loud roar of a motorcycle cut through her thoughts, causing both her and the man to jump, separating. She looked up as a black motorcycle skidded next to her, stopping, with another man stepping off it and glowering toward Caledon.

Surprisingly enough, it was Cedric, or rather, Raverian. He was 29 years old now, with shoulder-length, slicked back, wavy black hair; a dark purple trench coat with a raven on the back; a pair of tight jeans; dark boots; and fingerless gloves with diamond studs on the knuckles. He smirked as he approached the other man, poking him once in the chest and watching in amusement as Caledon stumbled backwards before catching himself. "She's not interested, in case you couldn't tell. Why don't you hit on a girl your own age?"

Caledon scoffed, insisting, "This is between me and the girl!"

"Go home, you idiot. You're drunk, not to mention pathetic. What lousy luck you must have with women that you've resorted to propositioning young girls in the park…"

The other man grew angry and attempted to swing at Raverian, who simply stepped to the side and smirked when Caledon fell flat on his face. He grunted as Raverian pinned him to the ground with his knee before grabbing his hair, forcing him to look up at Sofia.

"You see that? You better get used to the view, because this is your place in life: on the ground with the rest of the trash. And this girl will always be above you—far out of your reach." He shoved him back into the ground, releasing his hair, and standing up. "Now get lost before I do something worse."

Caledon wasn't normally one to run away, but he could tell that this was one of those guys that didn't need to be messed with… If his actions didn't convince him of that, the dark magic tattoos he'd attempted (futilely) to hide with his coat sleeve certainly did. Deciding not to take any chances, he took off.

Raverian took one look at Sofia, realizing that she was fine, but he could definitely tell (based on the suitcase in her hand) that she was probably a runaway like he'd once been. He frowned at that thought.

Sofia grinned at him. "You saved me!" she acknowledged, giggling as he rolled his eyes. "Thanks! You're my hero…"

He smirked. "This isn't that type of fairytale, I'm afraid…"

She matched his smirk, stepping toward him once, snickering as he seemed to step back just a bit, as if disliking the encroachment of his personal space. "Oh, yeah? Then what kind is it?"

Raverian chuckled, reaching forward and taking her braid, twirling it in his hands enough to where he was able to tug her closer, causing her to stumble into him as he caught her. "This is more like the story of the three little girls who got eaten by a wolf on their way to Granny's house."

Sofia laughed once, tugging her hair from the stranger's hand. "Nice try, but that's not exactly how it goes… But I'm curious." She grinned. "If I'm Little Red… Who are you supposed to be?"

He smiled wickedly, tracing one hand down her cheek and relishing in the fact that she shivered at his touch. "Why, I'm the Big Bad Wolf, of course…"

She blinked as he lowered his hand. "Does that mean…you intend to eat me?"

Raverian refrained from smirking as he answered, "Not just yet… But come with me, and I'll keep the other wolves away…" He folded his arms. "I'm Raverian."

"Oh, I'm—" She paused, realizing that giving her real name to a total stranger might not be the best idea. Sure, she'd run away from home, but even still… There were a lot of weird people out there with questionable intentions, and what if this guy was one of them? And he was waiting… He was anticipating a response, with a name. "I'm…Sophitia!" 'You…idiot… Like he's ever going to believe that!"

He laughed. "You made that up."

She blushed, not having any good comebacks. She knew he was right. She couldn't deny it.

"But that's fine… I get it: new life, new name." He gestured toward her suitcase, which was still clutched in her hands. "You don't honestly think Raverian is my real name, do you?" He winked, nodding toward his motorcycle. "Care for a ride, Sophitia?"

"Oh, my mom doesn't—" Her mom didn't like her riding these sorts of things, especially with strange guys. But her mom wasn't there… She was calling her own shots now. She grinned. "Mom doesn't have to know about any of this."

Raverian smirked. "Perfect."

They both climbed onto the motorcycle, Sofia/Sophitia clinging to Raverian's midsection, as he sped off into the night.

A few days after having met Raverian, Sofia decided it was time to shed her old life and embrace the new. While they were in a store, she swiped a pair of scissors and rushed to the bathroom, locking herself inside. She unbraided her hair, letting it fall to its full length. With little care, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and hacked off about a foot of it, watching it fall into the sink before her. This left her with hair just below her shoulders, but she wasn't done yet. She set the scissors aside and gathered her locks into a half-up style, twisting them into a makeshift bun, before taking the remainder on the left side of her head. She picked up the scissors and cut away at those strands, the hair there now very fine and short. She repeated the same action on the other side then released the rest of her hair, allowing some of it to fall into her face like unruly bangs. The rest of it she tied back into a tight ponytail.

She smirked at her reflection. "Goodbye, Sofia. Hello, Sophitia."

A year passed. Then two… Then three… And finally, four years had gone by. Over those years, Raverian and Sophitia travelled the realm together, and they faced many challenges and changes.

Raverian spent time teaching Sophitia the basics of magic, but he also trained her in the art of dark magic, which she surprisingly took to rather easily. He also managed to corrupt her thinking as much as his, leading to them committing many different crimes together: theft, physical assault, and beyond…

Sophitia's hair had grown to her mid-back by now, though she left the sides shaved like she'd first started a few years ago. Raverian had given her a leather jacket of her own with a white swan on it, and she also had her own motorcycle now. Neither used helmets, as they claimed those were for 'wimps.' In addition, she also had several piercings in either ear, one in her nose, and dark magic tattoos all over her body.

Her new outfit consisted of tight black pants with rips along the fabric, a rather skimpy white top, the previously mentioned dark leather jacket with the white swan on the back, and dark boots. In addition, she and Raverian had begun a physical relationship when she'd turned sixteen, though they had yet to connect on an emotional level (probably because they didn't exactly seem to have such things to begin with)…

Over the course of time, Raverian discovered valuable information about other realms and how to travel between them. In the same breath, he'd discovered that he and Sophitia had counterparts, and they were all connected through some sort of spiritual energy. Something beyond physical strength, or even magic. But it was impossible to contain without a vessel. Perhaps if it were tethered to something physical, it could be harnessed. So, they did the obvious thing: they began killing off their otherworldly selves, and magically sealing their energy in the magical items they looted from them, gaining more power and energy as they did. And oh, did that feel good…

Different variations of Cedric and Sofia from other realms died at the hands of their own counterparts nearly every month. One duo, a pair of older teenagers, had been playing a game of chess together in a garden, so they had been destroyed rather easily. There was another duo, both seemingly about ten years old. Sofia, this time, had a darker complexion with light brown eyes and dark wavy hair; Cedric, interestingly enough, had auburn hair and blue eyes (like most of Sofia's counterparts). The children chose to hold each other and profess their love in their final moments (as cliché and premature as it seemed, given their ages, but considering the circumstances, it was rather bittersweet). There was even an opposite scenario: young Prince Cedric was spending time with his precious royal sorceress Miss Sofia, liking the downtime with her. They never saw their demise coming as Sophitia destroyed them both with her wand.

Quite possibly the worst one, though? In another universe, Sofia died first, and Sophitia and Raverian knew something Cedric didn't… Sofia had been pregnant... "Too bad you'll never get to meet your child," Raverian had teased mirthfully, laughing in amusement as the other Cedric charged him, enraged at discovering both his wife and his unborn child had been murdered before his very eyes; however, Raverian wasted no time in killing his distracted counterpart, his lifeless body falling beside the princess.

In all, they'd killed at least four variations of their counterparts, gathering their powers and their items as they did, and they were aiming to take down more: as many as it would take to get them unstoppable power…

The visuals of the destruction faded into nothing, before two familiar partners sat back in awe as they stared at a crystal ball before them. They'd seen everything through that crystal ball: a bit of both of their lives, their destruction of other realms and counterparts, their personal lives… It was so much to take in in such a short time span.

And what was worse? Cedric and Sofia were currently sitting in the Protectors' headquarters on the Mystic Isles, watching all of this take place, at the request of the Conjuror's Board, who had called them in to help with this rather unique and specific case. After all, who else would know better how to take down their counterparts…than Cedric and Sofia themselves?

"That's enough," Cedric insisted, frowning as Orion waved one hand, causing the crystal ball to fade to black.

"I'm sorry you both had to see such gruesome deaths," the wind walker apologized, sighing. "Especially at the hands of… Well…"

"This must be stopped," Cedric told the princess, who nodded in silence. He could tell she was shaken by what all she'd seen, and he didn't blame her. "We…must be stopped…"

"They're not us, Cedric," Sofia finally spoke, shaking her head. "You and I would never kill innocent people, especially our cou—" She froze, her blood running cold. "Cedric… Ceddy and Fia… Our counterparts in Absentia…" She turned to him, the color draining from her face. "Y-You don't think…"

Cedric swallowed nervously, taking her hand. "W-We'll…find out soon enough, my dear…"

To be continued…

Next Chapter: Strength in Numbers