The Three Kings: Resist

Disclaimer (1): Yu-gi-oh! Duel Monsters is owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Studio Gallop, Nihon Ad Studios, and TV Tokyo. Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Arthur A. Levine Books, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.

Disclaimer (2): Gmail is owned by Google LLC. Google Docs is owned by Google LLC. The Bay Area Rapid Transit is owned by the city of San Francisco. Wii is owned by Nintendo. Mario Kart is owned by Nintendo, Intelligent Systems, Retro Studios, and Namco Bandai. Legend of Korra is owned by Nickelodeon Animation Studio, Ginormous Madman Productions, Studio Mir, and Studio Pierrot. Netflix is founded by Reed Hastings and Marc Randolph.

Warning: Mentions of nonconsensual sex work, implied sexual assault, outbreaks of disease, fantasy interspecies relationships, amputation, poverty, implied self-harm, removal of consent, political assassination, suicide, war, body modification, sexual situations, pregnancy, sterilization, and eugenics.

Chapter 1: Heads

Vivian Wong looks up from her laptop, her fingers pausing for just a moment, "Tea? Can you send me today's inventory? I don't think I got the email."

"Can't you just grab it yourself? You're a technopath, aren't you?" Tea answers from where she's laying stomach down on the floor, her own laptop sitting on the ground in front of her.

"Yeah. But I figured that I should ask first. Manners, and all that," Vivian pokes her with her toe. "So, you gonna?"

Tea swats at her with a hand, "Fine! Fine! There. That should do it."

"Thanks," Vivian smiles as she gets the alert in her Gmail inbox. She clicks on the email and gets to work. Between her and Tea, they've got five new wizard-born mages expected to make landfall today and had to ensure that their transition into the city was as smooth as possible, on top of everything else.

It's been a long year since the Confederation Broadcast, as the wizarding world had come to know it. The first few months had been the busiest time of Vivian's life, as hundreds of mages had flocked to the city in droves to seek asylum. Matthew's contacts, who were usually used to providing one false identity every three or four months, had been overwhelmed. Duke had suggested that Vivian lend them a hand, using her powers to take some of the burden.

After the initial onslaught died down, Tea had opened up Bakura's Google Doc that he'd created shortly after returning from his raid on the Archives. She sorted through the names, figuring out who had come directly after the broadcast and those who had remained behind. Then, using a combination of Spellcaster magic and Vivian's own technopathy, they had managed to get in contact with any wizard-born mages still residing in the wizarding world.

Amanda walks in sometime around two, hanging up her jacket on one of the hooks by the door. The last week has been surprisingly cool even for late August, the temperature never going above fifty-three degrees. Amanda also has take-out.

"Tea, I love your girlfriend. I'm going to marry her," Vivian calls out, pushing her laptop off her legs and onto the couch, making grabbing hands toward the bag that Amanda sets on the kitchen counter.

"That's fiance to you," Amanda grins and pulls out plastic containers full of curry. Vivian's jaw drops.

"What?! When? How?!" She leaps up and grabs Tea, pulling her friend into a bone-crushing hug. "What the fuck? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We were going to wait until Bakura and Atem came back from their trip," Tea explains when Vivian pulls back and lets her breathe. Tea's smile is blinding as she wiggles the fingers on her left hand, displaying a tasteful white gold band with a blue topaz stone in the center. Vivian is going to cry. "But I guess now is as good as ever."

"No shit, girl!" Vivian punches Tea lightly on the shoulder before moving over to hug Amanda. "Deets! You owe me deets!"

"Later, later!" Tea laughs, "Come on, Viv! We've got work to do."

It takes most of the afternoon to finish up the new IDs for the five new mages, stuffing pamphlets about financial aid, housing, therapy, and medical insurance into gift bags. Weevil comes by to pick them up around four. The boy had volunteered to become one of their first contact people for incoming wizard-born mages after one group had brought in smallpox and nearly infected the entire city. But since Weevil was mostly immune to disease as a result of his powers, he could effectively get anyone infected with something into quarantine without endangering himself.

Vivian thinks back to how it had been when Duke first brought her to San Francisco. There had been only a few thousand mages with minimal funding and resources. Now, they had connections within governments both magical and not, a steady stream of income, and allies across the world. With a new population of nearly ten thousand mages, they'd had to expand out into Oakland.

Atem and Bakura would soon be returning from one of the many trips that they'd taken in the past year, which they'd spent deep in negotiations with various magical peoples across the world. Their talks between the Chinese Minister of Magic, Xiang Li, had been extensively covered in the wizarding papers, giving them their first public appearances outside of the Confederation Broadcasts. China had become San Francisco's most prominent supporters and was planning to open up their eight magical schools to encourage an exchange of information between the two cultures.

The two Kings had also been in contact with a variety of magical races, meeting with Veela, vampires, and most recently, Merpeople. Atem and Bakura would be returning later this week after visiting the Arctic to meet with a pod from Baffin Bay, but they'd also spoken to a family of vampires in Honduras and rescued a flock of Veela that have been filtered through the wizarding sex trade in Chicago.

While the vampires had offered support but refused to move from their ancestral home, the Veela, led by a stunningly beautiful man named Nahnah, had made the trek back to San Francisco. Once they'd gotten back on their feet, the Veela opened up a flower shop in the Marina District and named it Lost Thyme. Business had been booming ever since they'd provided the bouquets for a Hollywood wedding and gotten referred to some very high profile clients with some very expensive budgets.

Vivian finishes off what she needs to do and heads out, congratulating Tea and Amanda once again by showering them with love and embraces. It's almost dark by the time she gets to the BART station and misses her train, so she sends Duke a text to let him know and then calls Corilea to tell her that she's going to be running a few minutes late.

Corilea was one of the Veela to come south with Nahnah. Vivian had met her during one of her Technology Learning classes that she taught once a week, so help those who had grown up on the other side of the Statute of Secrecy to learn how to use modern non-magical technology. Corilea struggled with smartphones the most, becoming so frustrated that she would almost transform into what her people called their Warrior's Soul. Vivian had had to walk her through the steps one-by-one, giving her private lessons on the side as a way to help.

After a couple of weeks, Corilea had texted Vivian to see if she wanted to get dinner sometime. They'd taken it from there, moving at a glacially slow pace because Corilea has far too much history with sexual violence for them not to. But that's alright because Vivian's kind of convinced that she's met the One and is willing to hold Corilea's hand through the best and the worst of it all.

Corilea lives with her flock down the road from Lost Thyme on the top floor of a brightly lit apartment building. Her younger brother, Tenei, opens the door and Vivian has to look up almost a foot to meet his gaze. Tenei usually is hesitant around humans, and rightfully so. But when he leads her inside and places an intricately woven crown of cream coloured roses, chrysanthemum, and Queen Anne's lace on her head, Vivian is so surprised by the gesture that she almost cries.

Corilea waves from her seat on the couch, a Wii controller in her hand. She and another Veela named Oramora are playing Mario Kart and Corilea just red shelled her friend to dart in front of her at the last moment and crossed the finish line. They're both playing horribly, with the time clock somewhere in the fifteen-minute range and their drivers in last place against the PCs.

"Viv! You made it!" Corilea flips over the couch, nearly spilling the bowl of sunflower seeds that she'd had on her lap, and rushes over to Vivian, pressing a kiss to her lips. She's wearing baggy sweatpants, a massive hoodie, and has kept her hair loose because she knows that Vivian loves to braid it. "Did you see? I won! I finally won!"

Vivian smiles, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She feels like the luckiest girl in the world.

Mokuba walks into Nomad, finds a seat in his usual booth, and removes his prosthetic. The cold is making his stump ache and he wants to scratch at a foot that's no longer there.

Mai greets him warmly as little Haley barrels into Mokuba's chest, nearly knocking him over. He clings to the girl and offers her mother a small smile.

"How was school?" Mai asks after she extracts Haley from the stranglehold grip the girl had had on Mokuba and sent her back to her booth to complete her homework.

"Had to fight an asshole for the last seat at the front of the lecture room," he answers. He'd almost had to take off his leg and wave it around before the guy would move up a few rows. "Other than that, the prof is pretty interesting."

Not as much as Professor Mutuo had been, Mokuba thinks to himself, remembering the pretty purple-haired teacher who'd smiled at him. He and Atem had talked at Solomon Mutuo's funeral, his wheelchair making indents in the muddy earth and her holding a black umbrella over both of their heads even though the rain had long since stopped.

The front door of the Nomad rings again. Mai and Mokuba both look up to see three people walk through, two women and a man. They're all wearing incredibly shabby clothing and have heavy scarring on their faces. Despite how young Mokuba knows them to be, grey streaked through their hair. Their eyes were all flecked with gold.

Mai's back straightens and her jaw pops open. Mokuba would stand, but he'd have to put his leg back on first. He's known that they were coming, known that he was to meet them, but he'd never considered what would happen when he did.

Lycans, Mokuba thinks. It's been hundreds of years since we've been so blessed.

One of the women turns toward them, squares her shoulders, and takes a few hesitant steps forward. The pack's Alpha, Mokuba realizes. She's a few years older than Mokuba, with olive-coloured skin and a beige hijab covering her hair. She's beautiful.

"I'm Israa," she introduces herself. "We're… we're, ummm…"

"Mai," Mai says quickly, stepping forward and stretching out a hand. "I'm Mai and this is Mokuba. We're so honoured to meet you."

Israa blinks at her, taken aback. She shakes Mai's hand and allows her pack to be lead toward the booth that Mokuba sits at.

"Please forgive me for not getting up," Mokuba says, nodding toward his stump. The other girl in the pack stares at it openly, making him a little uncomfortable. Israa swats at her to make her stop.

"It's fine," the Alpha says, folding her hands in front of her on the table. They're covered in tiny knicks and half-healed scratches. Someone's stomach growls.

"Can I get you anything? Something to drink? To eat?" Mai offers.

The pack swaps a few half-hearted glances before Israa answers, "We don't have any money..."

"On the house. Anything that you want," Mai says quickly, her gaze reverent. "Please, you being here… It means more than anything I can give you."

The pack does end up ordering food and drinks, hesitantly passing around a laminated menu and looking as if they were expecting for a rug to be pulled out from under them. Once Mai disappears into the back, Israa clears her throat.

"We…" she looks so nervous, glancing around the room once before focusing back on Mokuba. "We understand it if you don't want us here. But…" Israa pulls a snapped wand from her belt and places the two halves on the table in between them, "...We're willing to work any job you want, anything you need. Kadrick promises that he won't practice magic again if that's what it takes. We just…" she trails off again, looking at the man beside her, who Mokuba assumes is Kadrick.

Kadrick is a stick thin twenty-something-year-old man with a patchy brown beard, finishes Israa's sentence for her, "We're just looking for a place to live. We'll do whatever you want. Just please."

It's around this time when Mokuba realizes that something is very, very wrong.

"What do you mean he won't practice magic again?" He asks Israa. Then he looks at her pack, from one person to the next, "Are you… You're non-magic."

"Yeah, I am. Kadrick's the only wizard in our group," Israa says.

"We were all mug- non-magics before we got bitten," says the girl who had been staring at Mokuba's stump.

"Got bitten? You didn't consent?" Mokuba's hands clench with anger.

"Why the fuck would anyone want this?" Kadrick spits, his hackles coming up as a growl escaped his throat.

This is so much worse than anything Mokuba could have imagined. Bakura, along with the some of the other wizard-born mages, had told him how Lycan magic had been corrupted over the centuries, making it impossible for those who possessed it to control their inner wolves. But to learn that the wizarding curse had destroyed their Law of Consent is almost too much to bear.

His anger doesn't stop there. Mokuba had known on some hypothetical level that Lycans existed somewhere beyond the Statue of Secrecy. So he'd always assumed that any future Lycans that had been born or created had been wizards. To think that they had allowed this curse to affect those who wouldn't even know what had happened to them, who could not possibly give their blessing to become a member of this species, is something that makes him sick to his stomach.

They were pacifists, Mokuba thinks angrily. Their magic was peaceful and their religion was beautiful.

So Mokuba swallows, works through the breathing exercises that his therapist has him do, and tells them about the culture that had been stripped from them.

By the end, the pack has fallen silent. Kadrick's jaw is hanging loose and Israa is actually crying.

"I thought that you were, I don't know, making fun of us or something," she says when she finally finds her voice. "With the whole 'honoured guest' thing."

Mokuba shakes his head, "We're really not. You and your pack, you're a blessing. And if you want to live here, we will do everything in our power to help you regain control of your magic."

"If we want to…?" Israa hiccups, reaching across the table to grab Mokuba's hand. "Thank you. Thank you …"

Mokuba nods and smiles at her, trying his best to be reassuring, "We should start with getting you guys in to see a doctor. Mai's going to help out with housing and we've already got a team on making you new IDs."

"We're going to need a safe place to transform on full moons. A place where we can't hurt anyone," Israa says. "Either that or… access to Wolfsbane potion."

"We've got a knock-off recipe, but we could never afford the ingredients," Kadrick pushes a piece of parchment across the table. Mokuba takes a look at it, understands absolutely nothing, and vows to turn it over to their Spellcasters in the hopes that they could replicate it. The next full moon was just under a month away, so there was a little bit of time.

"You said that we had a god?" The girl from earlier pipes in. She's got to be no older than twelve, wide-eyed and scarred almost beyond recognition.

"Kiera!" Israa snaps, sounding upset about the interruption. But when she glances back at Mokuba, he can tell that she hopes that he'll answer the question.

"I don't actually know much about Ilia or her following, but we've got a flock of Veela living with us. They might be able to explain it better than I could."

"Why would Veela know?" Kadrick asks, sounding skeptical.

Mokuba raises an eyebrow, "They worship the same goddess. Technically, you're cousins."

"To Veela?" Kadrick raises an eyebrow.

"And Centaurs. And Merpeople, too. I think. At least on a magical level."

"Mermaids exist?" Kiera interjects, rounding on Kadrick, "How come you never told me that mermaids exist?"

"Talking to Veela would be… nice," Israa says instead of waiting for her packmate to answer. She looks at Mokuba and asks, "Fifteen of us came down from Detroit. Is that… too many?"

Mokuba grins, "Never."

"There might be… more. Coming later."

"We'll be happy to meet them," he says.

Israa finally smiles, just a little bit. Mokuba's heart skips a beat.

"Thank you," she tells him again. "Just… thank you so much."

"Any time," he promises her.

"Well," Duke says, looking at the newspaper Kisha is holding up "Shit."

"Yeah. Not exactly the front page news that anyone wanted to wake up to this morning," she says. The mirror in Duke's bedroom ripples and simulates a split-screen television, allowing Royce and Shawn to join the conversation that they were having through Matthew's Spellcaster-powered Mirror Network.

They met like this, once every few weeks on alternating days so that no one watching could figure out a pattern. Usually, the four of them exchanged news or talked about ways to advertise Royce and Shawn's outreach program. But today, Kisha hauled ass to get home from her job at the Ministry to tell them what had happened.

"Oh. You've already seen the news," Royce says, looking gaunt. "This is going to be a setback."

On the front page of The Quill, the headline spells out, " MORIN DEAD! ASSASSIN KILLS HIMSELF BEFORE HEARING!"

"Palamo's was trying to keep it quiet, but someone leaked it to the press," Kisha sighs and sets the paper down just out of sight. "That's not even the worst of it."

"What do you mean?" Duke asks.

Kisha leans forward, "Morin left a note. And it's… guys, it's really bad."

In the first few weeks of May, the American Minister of Magic, Reyna Palamo, had been traveling to New York City to visit her parents when Adam Morin, a thirty-six-year-old wizard from an old American pureblood line, opened fire on her family home. Thankfully, Palamo's security had ensured that no one died and that Morin had apprehended before he could apparate away.

In the investigation that followed, it was revealed that Morin had been planning this since the Confederation Broadcast last year. His manifesto had been leaked to the press as well, which encouraged those of pure ancestries to rise up and reclaim their rightful place on top of the world.

"'Magic Is Might,'" Duke reads when Kisha shows him a copy. "What kind of bullshit is that?"

From the way that the three of them look at each other, he realizes that he's missing something.

"'Magic Is Might' is an old pureblood rallying cry," Shawn explains. "It's used a lot during blood supremacy wars."

Duke ponders on it for a second before swallowing, "So, Morin saying this in his manifesto is a really big deal, isn't it?"

Royce nods, "There's been a lot of… talk lately. About whether Palamo's good enough to keep doing her job."

"It's always been like that, especially with The Quill. It's just gotten a lot worse lately," Kisha interjects. "Palamo was put in after Hatfield retired. And a lot of the people were outraged that Neal Pendergrass was passed over. And now that The Quill is turning her custody battle into a soap opera, everyone who's been keeping mouths shut about stuff you normally don't say in polite company - they're all speaking out."

"Morin is going to be the first of many," Shawn says, sounding pessimistic. "And his suicide just made him a martyr."

"A martyr for what?" Duke asks though he thinks he already knows the answer.

Royce swallows hard, "War. Total, global war."

"It will be within the confines of the Statute at first, but it might not stay that way," Shawn tells them. "My dad… he's been visiting Europe a lot lately. He's telling the media that he's visiting some distant cousins of ours in Britain, and you can't deny that it's fishy. Especially since Britain only allows you to come in if you can prove your ancestry these days."

"Everyone says that the Sidonia heir is missing, but the Vestalis Maxima doesn't have him in custody. So there's a chance that he's out there recruiting or something," Kisha points out but trails off.

"It's just gotten really scary, really fast," Royce says. "We had a lot of people signing up to help us in the beginning. But with the way politics is now, we've had a bunch quit because they're scared of having their families targeted by the next Adam Morin."

"No one is asking you guys to risk your lives for us," Duke says, his fists clenched tight. "If you need to get out, we'll help."

Kisha shakes her head, "There are worse things to die for. And someone has to stand up for what's right. If we don't, who will?"

"So what now?" Royce asks the group. Kisha looks nervous.

"I shouldn't be saying this, but I think Palamo wants to talk. To you guys," she nods very pointedly at Duke.

"You mean Bakura and Atem," he clarifies. "She told you this?"

"Sort of," Kisha shrugs. While Royce and Shawn had set up an outreach program to help rally pro-mage supporters and Delphia moved to Hawaii to retire away from the chaos, Kisha had been hired on by Reyna Palamo herself as a consultant on the San Francisco mages. "I mean, she knows that I'm still in contact with you guys, but since no one can prove it, so she normally lets it go. She's never outright asked how I do it until today."

Duke sits upright. One of the points of these meetings as to control the amount of information about San Francisco that was released to the wizarding public. If the American Minister of Magic knew about the Mirror Network, then the connections that they had to all the wizard-born mages who had decided to stay on the other side of the Statute were compromised.

Kisha understands his worry immediately, "I didn't say anything! I told her that I didn't know what she was talking about and got out of her office as fast as I could."

"Well, if she does want to talk, she's going to have to wait a couple of days until Atem and Bakura get back," Duke says, but thinks, It could be a trap. If Palamo is desperate enough for a victory, would she be willing to put Kisha in prison for committing treason?

"'Get back?' I thought that their trip to China finished up a month ago," Shawn frowns.

"They're up in the Arctic talking to Merpeople," Duke supplies.

"There are Merpeople in the Arctic?!" Royce exclaims and that derails their conversation for a while.

Seto unlocks the door to his apartment, steps inside, and is immediately greeted by the smell of cooking.

Huh, he thinks. Kuirmet must be over.

The goblin warrior stood on a stool in the kitchen, stirring a pot with a wooden spoon. Serenity was leaning next to him, chatting away about one of her university courses - she'd gotten an early acceptance and Joey had danced around the apartment when they found out.

Joey is also home; Seto had missed him at first because his boyfriend had hidden away in his blind spot, spread out on the couch. Joey grins when he sees Seto, making grabby hands to encourage him to do some kind of inelegant flop. But because Seto is beyond that, he raises an eyebrow and yanks Joey to his feet, planting a kiss on his lips. It's still a thrill, even a whole year later, to be able to do something that he's wanted to for several millennia.

"Get a room. I can hear you two from over here," Serenity mumbles.

"Nope," Joey grins at her. "If you can have your boyfriend over, so can I."

"Please note that I live here," Seto mumbles, feeling a little embarrassed. He changes the conversation, "When's Mai coming home? And what's for dinner?"

"Ghaach Der Dhec," Kuirmet says in Gobbledygook. "The best thing I can compare it in your culture is a mushroom and meat stew. And Mai has called to say that she's picking Their Majesties up to escort them here, along with her daughter and your brother."

"Not you?" Seto asks. Kuirmet shakes his head.

"I have been allowed the night off," the goblin explains. "Apparently, there is an announcement to be made. Hence, Ghaach Der Dhec." Kuirmet nods at the stew. Seto guesses that it must be some sort of traditional dish.

"I'm guessing that the meeting with the Lycans went well," Joey says as he detangles himself from Seto and moves to set the table. Seto watches as Joey's shoulders stretch beneath his white cotton shirt, remembering dragging his nails across them for the first time a few nights ago. Seto's powers don't allow him to carry marks, but he bets that there are still scratches on Joey's back and that sends a thrill through him like nothing else.

"I still can't believe it, though. Lycans. In our city," Serenity smiles as she feels her way around the kitchen, looking for her seat. She gathers up her textbooks, all ridged with Braille, and places them within the backpack that is slung over the back of her chair.

"We might still have some old Lycan texts in one of our vaults," Kuirmet says as he spoons the boiling hot stew into bowls. There's a ping on someone's phone and Seto assumes that it's Mai, telling them that she'll be right up. "I can get in contact with one of our branch managers to see if we can have them sent here, so that this new group may learn of their culture."

Joey helps bring the food to the table as Kuirmet jumps down from his stool. Mai unlocks the door and Haley bursts into their home. He's not quite used to the large blind spot on the left side of his vision just yet so she catches him completely unaware, running full tilt into Seto, climbing up his leg and onto his back like a monkey. Mai pulls her daughter from his shoulders and offers him a hug.

"Tell me about the Lycans," Seto says immediately and she laughs at him.

He'd have thought that it would have been awkward between the three of them, when they'd started this relationship ("Trupple!" Mokuba had called them, just to watch Seto squirm at the ridiculous sounding word). But they'd just come together and talked about how it would work. Seto kind of glad for that because he doesn't think that he would trade Mai's friendship and Joey's love for anything in the world.

Mokuba walks in, with a skip in his step that Seto hasn't seen in a very long time. Seto looks from his brother to Mai, who tells him, "He thinks that their Alpha is very pretty."

"She is," Mokuba insists as Nurnok and Skrags lead their son through the doorway, helping him to remove his jacket. "Her name is Israa Khalaf and she's awesome. She led her pack here on foot all the way from Detroit."

Seto has learned more about goblin childhood development in the last year than he had in nearly every one of his cycles. Apparently, they aged at a rate nearly double that of humans for the first eight years of their lives, before slowing to a snail's pace once they hit adulthood. That was how Nurnok and Skrags were the human equivalents of middle-aged despite being close to eighty years old while Kuirmet was mentally somewhere in his late teens while only being alive for less than twelve.

But even despite that, the young Prince Lurtet was small for his age and probably always would be. His parents had named him after the founding member of the goblin monarchy the day he left the hospital nearly four months after his birth, so small that Skrags could hold him with one hand. But Lurtet had returned shortly after that with breathing problems that might be asthma, but it was too early to tell.

Two months after that, they'd discovered that Lurtet was deaf. So Seto had bought Nurnok and Skrags a book on American Sign Language. The goblin couple had taken to it as quickly had they did everything else, the knowledge trickling through their hive-mind until every goblin knew the new language of their prince, including Lurtet himself.

They all sit at the table, talking and signing and eating. Kuirmet's stew is probably the most delicious thing that Seto has ever tasted and is shocked to hear that the goblin had toned it down for human tongues. It's a quiet night, pleasant and domestic in a way that Seto had learned to appreciate due to the lack of such things when he was growing up.

"You had an announcement?" Mai asks Nurnok later when they're all sitting in the living room. They're watching Legend of Korra with the captions on, a show that Haley loves and is trying to help Lurtet understand. Serenity had her headphones in and was listening to a narrator describing everything that was happening.

The goblin queen smiles, "I'm pregnant."

Gasps ring out around the room and Seto feels a smile stretch across his mouth.

"What?" Serenity leaps to her feet, rounding on Kuirmet. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I made Ghaach Der Dhec, " Kuirmet answers, a sly look on his face.

"Are you… going to be alright?" Mokuba asks the goblin queen, looking a little worried.

Nurnok and Skrags hold hands while she answers, "We can't risk not having a backup plan in case something happens to Lurtet or me. And with the wizarding political climate the way that it is, it's the safest options for our people. It's only going to be a matter of time before someone figures out that the majority of their wealth that was reclaimed was in stolen goblin artifacts."

"Besides," Skrags says with a wry smile. "We always talked about having a large family. And we're finally in a position where we can ."

Nurnok nudges her husband with her nose and the tips of Skrags' pointed ears go dark as he blushes.

Seto leans into Joey, who's holding his girlfriend's hand. He looks around the room, sees all that they've worked to build, and knows that he's going to do whatever he can to make sure that Nurnok and Skrags remain in a position where they can accomplish their dream.

The Millennium Eye lies dormant in his left socket, covered in a black patch. He hasn't used it yet, not since his first cycle, but Seto doubts that life in San Francisco will stay peaceful for much longer.

Bakura flops face-first into his bed, rubbing his nose in the sheets. There's a thump and he assumes that Atem has joined him. He's so fucking jet lagged.

The last year had been one of the busiest of his entire life. Between the recovery efforts following the San Francisco attack, the planning of the Confederation Broadcast, and the subsequent influx of wizard-born mages, he and Atem barely had any time to sit down. They had just begun to pour over the books that Bakura had stolen from William's Abbey, looking for locations of former mage allies, when the Chinese Minister had made his announcement. After that, the two of them ping-ponged around the globe, moving from one country to the next, looking for those that could remember the days of old and the contracts between their races.

They'd just gotten back from the Arctic, where they'd spent nearly a week below the waves, kept alive by the magic of their hosts. The Merpeople of Baffin Bay had met them on the shores of Qeqertarsuatsiaq, an island off the western coast of Greenland, and sang to weave together a spell that would allow the two of them to breathe underwater and survive the freezing temperatures of their city. Mejarra, the warrior who had been sent to collect them, told them that they were the first Walkers to be allowed within their walls since the enactment of the Statute.

Mejarra, much like the rest of his pod, had been nearly fifteen feet long, had dark skin on his back and milky white along his front, his lower half similar to a massive narwhal. Between his golf ball-sized eyes was a large tusk that spiraled outward until it formed a sharp point. A thick layer of fat beneath his skin kept him warm while his fingers gripped at a spear made of the horn of a fallen warrior.

He had taken the pair of them to meet his King, an eighteen-foot-long merman named Kyah. Atem and Bakura had spent time listening to his peoples' tale of how their temples had been ransacked after the Fall of Camelot and their connection with their magical cousins severed.

"Ilia has not been able to answer our prayers for centuries," Kyah had said. "But last night, I heard her sing to me. She told me of your return, Your Majesties. She told me what you are and what you will do." Kyah has paused then, regarding them with his large black eyes, "Our magic is returning to us. I can feel it when our kin howl, when they dance and run in the light of Ilia and her million stary children. I feel the world returning to how my grandfather described it in his tales."

"We've made contact with our gods as well," Bakura told him. "Our Spellcasters can reach across the Realms again, to call up them for aid. We can access the forms of our Ka for the first time in generations."

"Why?" Kyah had asked, "I do not mean to question miracles, but there must be a reason why this is happening?"

Bakura had looked at Atem, hoping for an explanation. But she has none.

"I don't know either, but it is a sign that none of us can ignore," Atem had said. "We come before you to ask your help, King Kyah. Will you sing of San Francisco? Will you help us to help those who have had their powers stripped from them?"

"We will sing of your Walker city, only if you will sing of our fallen temples," Kyah had promised. "Come. Let us visit one of the few we have left."

According to Kyah, after Emeric Hufflepuff used the Elder Wand to severe the connection between the Divine Realms and the Mortal Plane, Rowena Ravenclaw had traveled the world to burn and loot the temples of fallen gods to magically sterilize the various races of the world. There had been a traitor, Kyah told them: a selkie by the name of Linbhóiblìonn, who had shown the Founders how to find their homes after she shed her scales to love a human man. Many fell because of Linbhóiblìonn's treasons, but Kyah's grandfather, Waltoko, had managed to keep theirs hidden by singing a song of storms. The resulting winter winds had blown Ravenclaw off course and nearly frozen her to death, but she managed to escape before succumbing entirely with the help of her former squire.

The temple that Waltoko had saved was one of the smaller ones, but no less magnificent. Bakura and Atem swam through a long corridor cut deep into the rockbed floor before coming to a solid wall where a glittering pair of intertwined serpents had been carved into the rock, their eyes set with large green gems. Kyah sang, calling out for entrance, and the snakes part way, allowing them to swim inside.

Bakura had never visited a Temple of Ilia before and as far as he knows, neither had Atem. The King Commander had had the honour, visiting a pod of sirens in the Nile Delta during the first year of their reign. But the tales that their lover had told them could not match seeing the real thing. The main chamber was very long and brightly lit. Through the walls ran veils of blue-green algae that emitted a soft, bioluminescent glow. Towering pillars had been carved out of the rock, around which swirled even more carved serpents with gemstone eyes.

At the head of the temple stood a statute that was as high as the temple itself. Bakura had slowed to a halt, treading water to get a better look at it.

The likeness of Ilia, the lunar goddess of Merpeople, Lycans, Centaurs, and Veela, had been carved into the rock. She had the body of a sea serpent, each scale fitted with a jewel so that her tale shone in the light of the algae. Sprouting from her back were large bat-like wings and her arms were covered in thick hair that swayed in the tide of the room. Her head was that of a horse and in each hand was a ball of magically burning flame.

"She's beautiful," Bakura had said. Kyah had smiled at that.

A ping rouses Bakura from him from his musing. Beside him, Atem makes an uncharacteristic grunting noise and her hand flaps around at her side to grab her phone. He hears her unlock it and pause to read the message before she gasps.

"Leo!"

Bakura blots upright in bed to see his girlfriend smiling at her phone, her thumbs moving across the screen to type out her response. The three of them had texted each other a lot over the last year. Leo had helped them coordinate flight plans and lodging in the different places that they had visited, but he had also been there to watch old movies alongside them in hotel rooms and provide snarky commentary that had Bakura laughing a stitch into his side. Atem had hour-long discussions about Marvel versus DC and had unwittingly introduced Leo to an awful self-insert fanfiction that Yuugi had written when she was twelve years old.

It would be so easy to love him, Bakura thinks, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

"What's he saying?" He grins.

Atem sits up and leans against his shoulder, showing him her phone.

good flight?
We just got home.
:) :) :) :)
you going to bed, baby girl? or are you going to netflix and chill with pretty boy? ;P

Bakura laughs, "I know I'm still new to twenty-first-century slang, but is Leo trying to sext you?"

"It would appear so," Atem smiles. She gives him a wicked look, "Do you… think we should encourage him?"

The two of them had spoken about including Leo into their relationship several times since discovering his identity as the King Commander. They had never acted on it, concerned that Leo's overall flirtatious nature meant that their feelings were not returned. But there was something about tonight - perhaps it was their overtired minds or the triumphant result of their time in Baffin Bay - that made them want to take that risk.

We're going to stay up a little longer.
Do you want to see some of the pictures we took in the Arctic?
…
baby girl, you know that we're not supposed to know what each other looks like, right?
 We remember
Do you want to see some anyways?

There's a very long pause before Leo responds:

yes

Atem filters through her camera roll, sending a few photos of the early morning sunrise across Qeqertarsuatsiaq's coast. Then, a picture of a cafe that they'd visited on the mainland that served fresh coffee and danishes. After that, Atem sent him shots of the airport in Nuuk before finally posting a selfie that she and Bakura had taken after surfacing from King Kyak's underwater city, Atem's lips pressed to his scarred cheek.

The phone tells them that he's received and looked at each photo, but Leo doesn't answer. Bakura throws an arm over Atem's shoulder, rubbing comforting circles into her skin, and they wait for as long as they can.

Then, when Bakura's eyes were starting to droop, there are two back-to-back pings.

"What'd he say?" He asks urgently.

Atem stares at the screen, her eyes flicking back and forth, before she looks up. Bakura swallows hard and she shows him Leo's message.

i'm sorry
 i have to go

Bakura's heart sinks and Atem pulls him into a hug.

"Shit," he mutters into her shoulder.

"Shit," she agrees. They stay that way for a long time, falling asleep in each other's arms.

Hello again!

I would like to thank those who reviewed for the last chapter: Moonfirekitsune, green lilah, Rita Mu, dragomira, and anita15. You guys are awesome!

So Heads is going to be the first part of the character introductions, focusing mainly on the mage perspectives within San Francisco. It's going to be followed up by the next chapter, which will be called Tails.

We've gotten some new magical races that we've been introduced to, specifically Veela, Lycans, and Merpeople. These three races, combined with centaurs, all have their magic stemming from their worship of the moon goddess Ilia and as a result are magical cousins. Lycans worship the moon itself, as it's waxing and waning controls their powers, and howl as their form of prayer. Veela honour the shadows that are cast when we light fires in the darkness and dance to cast their magic. Centaurs look toward's Ilia's million children (the stars) to read the future and run beneath their gaze. And merpeople (including the subspecies of selkie and sirens) sing to weave their spells while feeling the pull of Ilia in the tides.

We also have gotten a small look at how the non-human races of the world age. Goblins have a significantly shorter childhood and a much longer adulthood than humans. On the other hand merpeople age at a rate nearly ten times slower than humans, resulting in only three generations passing since the fall of Camelot.

Goblins are omnivores whose most basic meals are more flavourful than anything humans can comprehend (Ghaach Der Dhec is a very mild dish served to pregnant goblin women). Veela are gluten-free vegans who can only consume raw food, hence why Corilea and Oramora are eating sunflower seeds.

Until next time,

AlcatrazOutpatient