To Kittenus' surprise, Magnus was rather heavy. She didn't seem particularly well muscled or fat, being rather slim with a boyish figure with the perfectly ordinary height of 160cm. Still, she felt as though she weighed as much as Karstodes or Wahmuudes, though thankfully Magnus was both fully clothed and not oiled up.
He was tempted to take her to the infirmary, but how did one tell a medico that the real problem was the girl was a sorceress who had been cut off from her magic and bound like some sort of demon? So, Kittenus did the only thing he could think of, and called the only person he knew with anything approaching medical experience who could also be trusted in this situation.
"Howdy! This is Phoebe's phone. I'm right busy now, but you jus' leave a message and I'll get right back to ya!"
"Princess Fulgrim, this is Kittenus. I, er, I have Magnus. She's really your sister. She's just a little sick at the moment, and I was hoping you could help me care for her. I'm taking her to the Imperial Suites in the girl's dorm."
It was a bit of a laborious process to haul the mostly unconscious Magnus across the campus, especially since she kept twitching and mumbling nonsense under her breath.
"...darkness... darker mmm...dark…"
"...battle...primed...blade...snerk...mech…"
"...activate...zzz...trap...card…"
"...mommy...mmph...proud...me…"
Kittenus was just about exhausted by the time he made his way through the trenches and to the first security checkpoint, where two girls were manning a security booth, dressed in yellow uniforms with a black fist emblazoned on the breast. They even had on yellow hard hats with the same symbol on it, and an excited looking girl with a thunder hammer as big as she was jumped up to accost Kittenus.
"Halt! I need to see your identification!" the girl bellowed, waving her thunder hammer about to punctuate her words.
"Darna Lysander! Knock that off this instant!" another girl huffed, planting her hands on her hips and glaring at her compatriot Kittenus recognized her asTora Garadon. "That's President Kittenus!"
"Oh come on, we have to follow procedure!" Darna laughed. "And I haven't even got to smack anyone with my new hammer! I named her, you know."
"Yes, yes, Fist of Dorn is a very nice name," Tora sighed. She bowed slightly to Kittenus. "Sorry, Mr. President, we have to keep watch out for orks or other miscreants sneaking into the dorms."
"I just need to get Princess Magnus here up to the Imperial Suites," Kittenus sighed.
"Princess? Dang, we got them coming out of our ears now," Darna remarked, sticking her pinky into her own ear and wiggling it around as if searching for more. "Still, can't let you in with a stranger. It's against regulations."
"What? Since when?" Kittenus demanded. "Look, she's sick, hurt, I need to let her rest."
"I'm sorry, Kittenus, but Princess Dorn was very clear on our orders, I'm going to need authorization," Tora sighed.
"Well, you've got it, darlin'. I'm authorizin' my sister and her escort to head on inside. And y'all can jus' add them to the list now, ya hear?"
Kittenus looked up gratefully as Phoebe stode forward, flashing her own ID to the guards.
"Aw man," Darna sighed, lowering her hammer. "I'm never going to get to crush anyone at this rate."
"Oh, bless your heart. I'm sure we'll find some nails for you to pound with that oversized mallet," Phoebe said, patting Darna on the arm. She smiled at Kittenus for a moment, then frowned at the snoring girl he was propping up. "Well. She sure does stand out in a crowd, don't she? Come on. Let's get her some rest."
Coming alongside Kittenus, Phoebe took up Magnus' other side. "Oof. She got bricks in her pockets or something? Nevermind, upsidaisy."
Though Phoebe was on the short side for the Princesses, she turned out to be far stronger than her frame would have indicated, and Magnus became nearly light on Kittenus' shoulders. Together, they manhandled Magnus onto the elevator, then to one of the empty Imperial Suites.
"Here, let's take this one. Fifteen. That's a good number, right?" Phoebe grunted as arrived.
"Always did like numbers divisible by five, nice even numbers," Kittenus agreed, then winced. "Er, I mean-"
Phoebe snorted in a most unlady like fashion, then broke out into giggles as they got the door open. "Ya know, I feel the same way!"
They got Magnus inside, levering her into the bed.
"Alright, what's wrong with her, exactly? Faintin' spell?" Phoebe asked.
"Not… not exactly," Kittenus licked his lips. "You saw what happened in class, to Russ?"
"Couldn't hardly miss it," Phoebe agreed. "What the heck was that? Some sort of techno-doohicky?"
"No. It was…" Kittenus licked his lips. "You'll think me mad."
"Well, you'd have to be crazy to help someone like Russ, or her," Phoebe sighed. "Alright. Tell me."
Kittenus took a deep breath, then in a rush, said, "Magic is real."
For a moment, Phoebe just stared at Kittenus. Then she looked back at the bed, where Magnus was snoring and muttering in her sleep.
"...right. Ok. So...she got a curse on her or somethin'?" Phoebe asked, sounding exhausted more than anything else.
"You...believe me?" Kittenus asked, feeling more than a little incredulous.
"Honey, I just found out I have a sister that looks like a boiled crawdad, and the things I saw the Empress do...well. It explains a lot. Plus, you don't seem to be the type to go tellin' tales." Phoebe sighed and sank into a chair, scooting it closer to Magnus bed. She rested the back of her hand on Magnus' forehead. "She's burnin' up. Get me some water and towels, and some painkillers if you can. I'll watch her."
"I don't know what's wrong with her," Kittenus said as he rummaged in the bathroom for the supplies. It was thankfully stocked, even with a small first aide kit. "Dean Celestine did something to her. Check under the eye patch."
He returned with the supplies as Phoebe examined the golden rune in Magnus' eye.
"Alright. That looks magical," Phoebe agreed. "Don't know nothin' about that nonsense. I'm a practical sort of gal." Taking up the rags, Phoebe dabbed at Magnus' forehead. "Magic. I've never heard such nonsense."
"I...don't know what to make of it either," Kittenus admitted, pacing back and forth in consternation. "Is there anything else I can do?"
"Don't suppose you know anyone with any ideer about what to do about this contraption on her eyeball?" Phoebe asked.
"I...might," Kittenus said slowly. He swallowed. "How do you feel about the aeldari?"
"I reckon they're folks, same as the rest of us. Even if they are a bit uppity," Phoebe said with a shrug. She looked off into the distance for a moment, a faint smile on her lips. "They do make the most wonderful paintings and sculptures though. Shame everyone don't like 'em."
"Because they're xenos," Kittenus sighed.
"Well, might be, but mostly I think it's because they put on airs like they're better than everyone. Drives people to distraction if you let on you think you're better than they are," Phoebe said with a shake of her head.
"Well...if you don't mind...I do know Macha. She might now something of how magic works," Kittenus said.
"Honey, if I can put up with a bunch of orks trampin' about, I can put up with one girl who's too big for her britches. Just don't call for Russ too and we'll manage," Phoebe said, smiling to show she was mostly kidding.
"Alright," Kittenus agreed. He took out his phone and dialed Macha.
"Who is this?" an impatient voice said when it picked up.
"Ms. Ulthran? This is Kittenus. Can you talk?"
Macha's voice took on a languid air as she replied, "Why, Mr. President, why ever would you be calling me?"
"I'm in a bit of a tight spot, and only you seem to be able to help me," Kittenus admitted.
"Reeeallllyyyy," Macha purred. "And what is this problem, my little mon'keigh?"
"Magnus, she-"
"Oh what did that jumped up seachran do now? Don't tell me her head exploded. Or worse," Macha snapped, sounding exasperated and angry.
"No, she's just sick. And it wasn't something she did. It was done to her." Kittenus hesitated, then asked. "Do you...do you know about sealing away magic?"
"Don't say another word, fool. Where are you?" Macha demanded, her voice cracking with anger and fear.
"The Imperial Suites, Room XV. Can you come?" Kittenus asked anxiously.
"Yes, fine. If I can get by those pompous little 'security' experts. Morons." Macha hung up, and Kittenus sighed and pocketed his phone.
"She comin'?" Phoebe asked, looking up.
Kittenus nodded and sat down, feeling slightly sick. "She is."
"I messaged Ferri. She'll make sure Macha gets here. But Kittenus, you said Dean Celestine did this?" Phoebe's face wrinkled in confusion. "I thought she was one of ma's most trusted advisors. What's goin' on?"
"It's...complicated. I'd prefer to only say it once. Let's wait for Macha and Ferri," Kittenus sighed.
Thankfully, the other two did not take long to arrive, coming together only a few minutes later. Kittenus stood as the arrived, only for Macha to glare at him and poke him in his chest with a long nailed finger.
"Never," she hissed. "Mention magic on these pathetic excuses for comms. I hate to say the word even in this room. Have you checked for those damn listening devices of theirs?"
"I can do that," Ferri rumbled, and set about with a few tools, checking the walls, outlets, and other random places.
After a quick inspection, Ferri pronounced, "Clean."
Macha narrowed her eyes, then sighed heavily. "Right. Now, I'm a good little political prisoner, and I heed the Imperial Creed. Magic isn't real, and I haven't used mine."
"You pulled that witch blade out of thin air, and you could sense the orks," Kittenus pointed out.
"Mmm," Macha grunted in a distinctly noncommittal tone.
"Miss Macha?" Phoebe stood up and wiped her hands off on her dress. "I reckon they threatened you with all sorts of unpleasantness if you talked about magic or used it. But my sister here is sick. So I tell you what: you help her, and you have my word as an Imperial Princess that nothin' bad is gonna happen to you for what you do to help us out."
"Excuse me if I find the word of the Imperium to be somewhat lacking in verisimilitude," Macha said dryly.
"My word as...as a lady," Phoebe said, throwing her hands up in the air.
"Macha?" Kittenus reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "Please. You're the only one who can help."
Macha flushed, her mouth open slightly as she looked into Kittenus' eyes. After a moment, she closed her jaw and licked her lips. "You will owe me, mon'keigh."
"Whatever you require. Short of treason or heresy," Kittenus swore.
That brought a thin smile to the aeledari's lips. "Most would call what you ask of me now both. But very well."
Macha went to Magnus' side, passing her hand over the girl as she closed her eyes and muttered. After a moment she sighed. "I am familiar with this affliction. They have blocked her mana. She is going through withdrawal."
"What can we do?" Kittenus asked, and Ferri and Phoebe nodded.
"You?" Macha shook her head at Kittenus. "Nothing. The iron handed is helpless here. But you...an artist?" Macha inquired of Phoebe.
"I...do a bit of painting and some other little projects," Phoebe said hesitantly.
Macha snorted. "Please. I saw the canvas you prepared for Vulkan and Dorn. Not bad for one of your race."
"They were beautiful! A masterpiece!" Ferri barked. "As if you could do better."
"Hmm. Well, I sense some talent in you. Deep emotion. An all consuming drive. You have some connection to the Deep Mysteries," Macha said with a one handed shrug. "I can show you how to donate a little of that to your sister. I would do it myself, but that damnable headmaster and his pet daemon would recognize my work and completely block my own access, or worse."
"But...me? A witch?" Phoebe sounded strangled and looked sick.
"No. An artist," Ferri said firmly.
"Will Magnus be alright without this mana?" Kittenus asked.
Macha reluctantly nodded. "Most likely. It will only ease her suffering and reduce how long her illness lasts. More I can only guess at."
"I...I'll do it." Phoebe forced a smile. "Never did like to see folks suffer. Show me how."
"Very well. The two of you, leave. I will limit those who learn these secrets," Macha ordered.
"If you hurt her, or Magnus, eldar…" Ferri growled.
"Then I will undoubtedly be hanged or whatever other barbarous method of execution you primitives choose. Go. I am apparently a fool, but not suicidal," Macha ordered.
Kittenus stepped outside with Ferri, who began to pace back and forth, hands twitching.
"I should be able to fix this," Ferri muttered, her silver hands clenching and unclenching as she walked.
"We will," Kittenus promised.
"I don't trust the eldar witch," Ferri muttered, though she arrested her pacing to look to Kittenus.
"Do you trust your sister?" Kittenus asked gently.
That seemed to calm Ferri at last. "I...yes. Yes. The right tool for the job."
Ferri sat beside Magus' door, looking worn but patient.
Before Kittenus could think of something to say or do, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out and put it to his ear.
"I need you. Come to my rooms."