These advancements made for a different view on magical order. American witches and wizards were often reffered to as mages or warlocks, and they didn't use wands very often, unless a buffer or precise aim was required for the more... delicate, spells. Using this wordless variety of magic made battle and duels unpredictable, as well as far more devastating. Every country, in fact, has small differences in it's magical community, varrying generaly in very small ways, as in the wording for spells, the materials for wands, and the laws of seperate wizarding communities.
'Well,' he thought to himself,shaking his head to clear his mind, 'Perhaps I really can teach... Can't let Minerva find out though. She'd never let me live it down.' After re-checking to make absolutely sure that all of his luggage was completely ready for travel, Aerin steadied himself and concentrated on a large grey building, it's image filling his mind as he spun on his heel, apparating to the front of the Blak Hand compound. After quickly regaining his balance, he shook the fog from his head. He truly hated the experience of apparating, but it was something that he had to deal with.
There were more important matters at hand than a little motion sickness though. He had a million dollar private military compound to run, and he couldn't do that in Scottland. There was only one person he could trust to do it for him though, and there was only one place he could be. Stepping proudly through the double doors that served as the entrance to the large, rather generic looking building, Aerin smiled to himself. His headquarters had always been a bit lax as far as rules whent, and as a result, his employees stayed happy and productive. He had never seen the compound this busy though. People were rushing around, trying to accomplish God knows what, trampling over flyers that littered the floor. He was doing himself a favour honestly, leaving like this. Things were about to get even crazier, for only two words could explain the massive wave of protection requests and gaurd posts that were piling up on the front desk. Tourist Season. The one issue with having a compound in Florida.
Making his way through the crowd of busy desk jockies, he entered the main office of the building, knocking on one of the doors located in the small waiting room. Without waiting for a response, he opened the door and strode right in to find Jason Grymes with a glass of whiskey in his hand. The buff man raised an eyebrow at this, smile lightly to himself. "Sup, boss?" Came his gruff greeting. Aerin chuckled lightly at his second in command. "Drinking on the job, are we, Jason?" The other man flushed lightly at this and looked up at his friend. "It's not entirely my fault, sir. If you had to deal with the new recruits and all the new requests for the tourist season, you'd be drinkin' too." Aerin laughed openly at that. "Wasn't your fault? What, did the bottle just poof into your mouth? Probably conjured it there, ya damn drunkard. And cut that 'sir' shit, call me Aerin, like I told you. I'm three years younger than you, and we've been friends since before the bomb dropped." Jason was one of Aerin's oldest and closest friends. They had met on one of the military bases where Aerin's father was stationed and they both entered service together after the bombing that killed so many of their family and friends. Aerin had blazed through the rankings despite his young age and Jason had traveled shortly behind him, though Aerin always remained as the larger male's superior. They had been through the last wizard war together, and that sealed their bond.
Jason reached out, nudging Aerin's arm. "Oi, what are ya daydreaming about, Little-Bit?" Aering shakes his head once more, shaking away the memories before sitting across from the other soldier. "Jason, there's something I have to do. I'm gonna need to leave for about a year, and you're going to have to take over the compound until I return. Can I count on you to do that?" The larger male sets a hand upon the smaller's shoulder. "Yeah I can do that, man. It will give me a chance to whip these punks into top shape. When are you leaving? Next month, the month after?" "Monday." Jason withdrew his hand, his face growing dark. "So, you're telling me that you, the best damn battle-mage I've ever seen, are going to leave, during our busiest month of the year, while we're training new recruits, and you don't even have the common decency to give me a weeks notice? What's so important that you have to up and leave all of us behind? You have a duty to this company, Wylse." Aerin nods in agreement, his face solemn. "Yeah, but my family comes first, Jay. My Aunt Minerva has asked me to run one of her classes this year. She is relying on me and I won't let her down."
"So, just because your mom's estranged sister, who you've only met once or twice, is more important than your multi-million dollar military operation?" A dark, sad look crossed Aerin's face and Jason realized all too late what he did wrong. "She's the onlyfamily I have left, Jay. I have to do this for her, without any questions. She was there after the bomb... and she was there after dad died in the war." "I'm sorry, Aerin... I didn't mean it like that. It's just... It feels like your leaving all of this behind. But I understand, and if this is what you want, then go for it. I'm here for you, man. One hundred percent." After a quick, very manly hug, Aerin left the compund in Jason's capable hands and set out to see to some final preperations.
His next destination was Gamestop, where he spent 2 hours talking to the staff about his departure. They all knew him by name and he was considered the store's #1 customer. Eventualy he came back out of the store, roughly two-hundred dollers poorer with three different bags of merchandise. He was a soldier, and had his own mercenary compound, but at heart, in the true center of his being, he was a gamer, a techie, a 100% bonafide Grand Nerd Overlord. After a quick aparition back to his appartment, concealed from muggle eyes of course, he hops in his car and spends the rest of the day driving around town, saying farewells to friends. Apon arriving back home, he decides to take one last trip before departing.
Reaching beside his bed and grabbing a family portrait that was taken shortly after his ninth birthday, he smiles wistfully to himself. The portkey responds to his magic, sending him to the one place he felt at peace. The memorial cemetary was oddly empty, at least the area around his family's graves. He approached slowly before kneeling in front of plots. "Hey you old coot. I guess I'm finaly gonna get my chance to torture some poor kids the same way you used to torture me. I won't let you down. Mum... I know you didn't know Aunt Minnie very well, but she spoke highly of you. She looks so much like you it isn't even funny, I guess you both get it from grandma." He moves to the third gravestone, the smallest of the three, and sets a hand on it's front. "Hey sis... I know you didn't get much of a chance at life, and I'm sorry about that, but you had a blast while you were here, and that's what counts. I've been living my life for you, and I will never forget the time we had." The frazzled man stood and took a few steps back, daydreaming of days past, and smiled half-heartedly, a single tear sliding down his cheek. "Goodbye."