Most Wanted

Once I had wanted to play Flyer Derby.

Once I had wanted to attend Hexside. As a normal student.

I wanted to study wild magic! And carve palismans!

I had never wanted to step in that throne room again!

But then I had to.

I had to scout out the night markets and villages of lower Titan. Issue orders of release for those having been in Conformatoriums. Deliver letters of resignation, all manner of threats to my friends.

Track down Odalia Blight.

Go back to the hovels of Latissa where once I'd almost handed over a batch of palismans to slaughter.

Scouts new and old straightened and saluted.

In brief moments I was the emperor.

And then it was Ms. Clawthorn and then Amity Blight or the old Head Ms. Lilith. Mrs. these days.

I couldn't much go to Hexside either.

My friends were only growing and getting better. Without me.

Something wasn't working. Something was missing. I couldn't sew without the steady thrum of a trembling machine. My fingers were often clumsy, my stitchwork too tight. Cluttered.

At some point I had tried beast taming. There was a brief window where I waited so eagerly, for the Bat Queen to give her blessing from one of her pets. Err, children.

I could get a wolf. As good as, at least.

After that snarling Greyback nearly bit my hand off. The cubs had wings and scorpion tails. And their eyes, they weren't proud. They didn't glint like steel or perfect gems. Instead they were empty and grim.

There was nothing inside them. No magic, no soul. Nothing at all.

Not... not the magic I was looking for.

Hexside, Derby, palisman.

Wild Magic.

I tried to learn, I did.

I don't know why I tried so hard honestly.

Just what was I flailing so desperately for anyway?

Why did I refuse to see?

That the castle rooms were too big, the Blight manor's guest room, the unused suite Odalia once owned, all too cold. Not mine in the least. The Owl House was better. Cozy, felt more like home.

That didn't last too long either.

Our worlds would one day, not be ours anymore.

I knew that.

They did too.

One day, either in the far future or closer, we would say goodbye. For the last time.

What we also knew, is that they were all I had. And maybe, that wasn't healthy. But it just may be, that I may never start over there. Never not be the Golden Guard on those Isles.

I had never had a Mother before.

I had never had cafeteria food or pop quizzes.

I'd never had to memorize lines about being a refugee or decorate what was once a clubhouse for us, what used to be his ancestral home.

"I'm gonna crash if that's fine. Caleb? Mr. Wittabane? Silence means yes."

A pair of heavy cases clunked on wooden flooring, kicking up a storm of dust.

And a skittering thing...

Shit. They had termites.

Magic just, wasn't a part of my life anymore.

It was fine. Really, it was fine. Living for sure without the thing that dictated and defined my life or even... allowed me to exist in the first place.

Made of... magic... and all.

I didn't miss it. Nah. More trouble than it was worth really.

I certainly don't shake or convulse sometimes(but, just my hand) so chill, just chill deal? Deal.

But hey so what? I mean, I did two or so of the things I set out to. And considering where I started that-- that is big, it is a huge deal.

HUGE deal. Huge!

Ah, humans have these games called baseball and basketball.

And while I don't mean to brag, all the old Golden Guard stuff, right down to the "cutting throats" served now and again. No contest. Showed them!

Take that Braddock Michaels!

I know I'll be the first Freshman captain on the team.

The guys are good in throwing sure, but they are completely unfocused and uncoordinated. Wait till I get done with 'em. Few weeks of infantry tactics and a night out in these woods, they'll see a feint or fatal knife attack from a mile off.

I should probably stop now.

*************************

The new picture went a lot better. Used to the flash now I could put on a small, shy smile for the camera. Absently I couldn't help but trace just where the scars were on the real thing. Large and imposing over my eyes and where my ear would be if not hidden by an illusion stone.

Instead of the bomb threat terror of last time. And the one before that, the one before that, the six before...

"You have got to stop losing these Wilde," Hal sighed.

I simply laughed, an awkward, buck tooth grin coming onto my face, setting the ID down. "I know, I'm sorry."

"That's fine. Now off to class."

"Yes sir," I said saluting, before remembering not to accidentally toss the small card again.

Packed in my bag I made sure to heft my books; only for someone to crash straight into my chest. Or did I shove my chest at their face? I don't always remember.

Either way the poor boy yelped like a kicked Vee.

"Sorry, sorry I am so-- I shouldn't even be talking! I don't-- I didn't--!

He went crimson. Outside of helping him with his own materials; including what could only be office assistant stuff, I tried to nod and listen.

I kept a firm and careful squeeze of his shoulder, hoping to convey he was by all means free to escape. "Hey, hey, hey I don't wanna hear that nonsense, just focus on me 'kay, okay?"

"Okay," he whimpered.

"Now is there anyone else here?" I murmured voice now no more than dust.

He shook his head.

"Good, that's good--"

Turning his head back I continued in a quick, comforting whisper, "now in--" he took in a gulp of air.

And with fingers raised counted down as I slowly exhaled.

The younger freshman copying it.

"Come on," I said picking him up off the floor.

"Thanks, so so much Mr. Hunter."

"Please Mr. Hunter--" then again his Father was either a corpse or a tree. Belos was well, Belos. "Anyway, you hit me up next time whoever it is is throwing shade you got that."

He nodded, now smiling and eyes brimming with awe.

We continued chatting. Mostly about classes, making sure he wasn't late, handing in the forms in his place.

"We should make him a hall monitor." the vice-principal commented absently, while watching the pair leave in good spirits.

Both smiled fondly to the older freshman.

I stopped cold.

Rules and authority. My worst enemy.

But no problem couldn't be solved with snacks.

"You ever seen M&Ms disappear within five seconds! Cuz you're gonna right now!"

Ripping open the bag I did just that to the freshman's, I'm sure, amusement, no matter how he tried to pretend calling me crazy. After all, the poor schmuck worshipped 'Mr. Hunter.'

"Mr. Hunter no!"

"Hunter YES!"

Eddie, Saanjik, Shing Hu, Saravi, and Claire were some close-ish friends. My b-ball team and Claire's posse from the cheer squad.

"Feeling good about the game tomorrow night?" Claire needled, brow raised, and voice taking on a sardonic note. "Is a whole lot riding y'know. This whole school's pride this season is riding on the new guy who barreled his way in to the team, some may say... unfairly so."

"Ha. Am I supposed to be intimidated, because I'm not," Hunter laughed. "If there is one thing I can deliver on it's demolishing the competition." And to show that point I gave an extra hard slam of my locker door, punching dead center without a glance.

Smiling I tried to swallow the rush of pain and throbbing of what I was sure is a lurid red on my fist.

Sooo stiff. It shouldn't be stiff should it?

"Alright then settle down," Claire laughed cheekily. Much like an annoying human witch I knew. Was this really the brutal bully that made that brave witch cower?

"So it's that Chem exam you have next right?" With a wink she added, "mind sneaking a cute friend of mine the answers for tomorrow?"

I mounted my best deadpan. The very same I used to use against dumb Wild Witches who tried to talk their way out of arrests.

Sure, it was different for me. Being popular, whatever that meant.

I shouldn't be calling Claire a friend should I? No, I really shouldn't. She wasn't always so nice and fun. Sometimes she genuinely got the joy of making me nervous.

What she always called 'keeping me on my [human] toes.'