[center][h3][color=#3D85C6][color=#7BCDC8][i]ℭ[/i][/color]harles [color=#7BCDC8][i]Λ[/i][/color]eon[/color][/h3]  [b][u]ＴＨＥ  ＩＭ ＭＯＲＴＡＬ[/u][/b][/center]
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[center]~|[i]Ｏ[/i]minar, earlier that day |~[/center]

It was a normal day at the Zander’s University of Magical Arts,  or fondly referred to as ZUMA, despite the occupation of the Prae nearly a year and a half ago. Nature, however, never seemed to notice. Birds chirped their seemingly endless melodies, trees swayed passively with the breezes passing, and darken clouds loomed over heavy with ripe rain, the scenery through his classroom window creating a subtle amusement within Charles Aeon. It was encouraging to see nature blantly ignore Ominar’s present rulers, the Prae, as it had so many dictators over the centuries and nurtured the hope within all that this point in history wouldn’t last forever.

Sadly, he realized, few might live to see the day it came to an end. Pushing away the thought, Charles’ focus returned to his classroom. The lecture was in full swing with his voice booming out toward the students and each were watching the display of silvery golems playing out his every word in an rehearsed fashion, his feet casually strolling through the desks to spy for any slumbering victims. It seemed like a old scene from another century, namely the eighteen hundred, save for the magical additions.

There was about thirty students filling a room that could seat over a hundred comfortably. Their desks seated about three each and circled a lower, centered stage where the teachers were often required to drone about magical applications or visually display examples in various of ways. Charles, while the professor and unofficial expert on Magical History subjects, wasn’t required to use magic, he felt going the extra mile would demonstrate pride in his profession and improve his student’s attentiveness.

For the most part, he was right. Through several of his fellow professors were skeptical of his success and suspected he was falsifying grades for improving his paid grade, likely purposely marring his name through the educational system. He usually assumed it was because of his image. He was, after all, over a thousand and sixteen years old and stuck in a sixteen year old man’s body. However, his mannerisms and voice often hinted to more experience than peers around his assumed age.  

The remainder of his struggle drew an irritating shadow over his earlier pleasant mood. Having more control and awareness of his own actions, he managed to to prevent such emotions from surfacing. His eyes shifting across each student and absorbing their familiar image into his focus, letting their interested faces chase away the recollections away.

Charles inhaled, disguising it in a breath, then continued with his speech. He listened through he knew each sentence down to the very word by heart. This classroom after all was his whole world for the most part and unaffected by the Prae’s growing propaganda over the Licentia. Though he doubted it would last much longer and secretly dreaded the request for his retirement. Some days he imagined the headmaster walking through the door one day to speak with him over his lessons and methods, trying to persuade him to approach it differently.

His currently purple eyes shifted to the display of his golems at the room’s center and ensured they were actively playing correctly. It was more like a recording than actual golems making the complications far less an issue in both Vis consumption and construction.

[color=#7BCDC8] “Humanity’s potential for magic grew, gradually when the races known as Prae and Licentia made themselves public. This was around the time of 1536.”[/color] Charles stated, his vision shifted forward.

The current scene was about two to five colonial puppets, half the size of the real models, they appeared to be harvesting the yearly wheat crop and storing for the winter months to come. They were shortly approached by two more figures, obviously representation of Licentia and Prae. The Licentia was continually shifting between difficult forms, symbolizing their chaotic nature while the Prae was in its manifested form. Everything in the small isolated scene produced a metal shine that shifted through gold, silver, and bronzed like mother of pearl. The figures were moving about as if they could imitate life itself thanks to the attention of detail to each one, some even able to create earnest expressions. Charles took pride in his artwork and application, the Vis used to create them was halved since they were only for show rather than actual tasks. Each golem and scene was set to melt into another whenever he spoke a key sentence allowing it to shift with his lecture effortlessly.

[color=#7BCDC8] “At first, with less than 10 percent of humans able to cast magic, it seemed to contain the threat. However, due to illegal activities and magic knowledge becoming being more widely accessible, the laws alone lost their effectiveness.”[/color]

His eyes then lingered upon a single student, Avery Holmes. About twenty-five years old with bright, coppery red hair that curled about as bad as his own, the man had managed to fall asleep sitting up. The lithe figure was slouching in his posture with his head hanging backwards against the seat’s back. A soft, airy snore rumbled from his chest into the air causing Charles’ usually controlled expression to break into a frown. This action wouldn’t do, the immortal thought and his steps quieted in his approach toward his unaware victim.

Charles’ polished and well kept shoes clicked across the scuffed marble. Each moment was well practiced, chosen and executed with barely a sound upon impact while his strong voice drowned out any possible tell. On habit his fingers brushed the desk edges along the way with barely a touch. His neck hairs rose with the sensation of his students’ eyes fixed upon him and seemed to push him along, motivating him to complete his intended deed.   

Charles ignored them. His focus was on his lecture and waking the student, his disapproving crinkling his face. Strangely enough, he never missed a word. 

[color=#7BCDC8] “This called for methods to contain and control its vast ability to spread. Magic, as many of you know, is a tool like any gun, sword or spear but can’t be taken away. This often makes it more lethal in comparison to more common forms of weaponry since officials haven’t found a humane way to prevent mages from using their magic. This is why magic isn’t to be taken lightly as many of our government officials started to realize and during the 1800s, Hudson Crue, a mage himself, began to write up the basic laws for all mages to abide by.”[/color]

When Charles stopped, Avery let out another distinct snore which rumbled through his thin figure. The teacher inhaled sharply for a breath and break in his monologue. His perperiphal vision caught the image at the center already displaying the subject, Hudson Crud, in the center but noted no one was was actually looking at him. Instead all their attention was focused on him. Charles held out his hand making a fleeting flicker. Within seconds a transparent metallic ruler appeared in his hand, his voice falling back into his lecture. 

Lauren Smockins, an excellent student, and about twenty-one in age braced herself by pressing her hands to her ears. Her worry and concern pouring from her face. Charles felt a needle of guilt stab him in the chest but not because he felt any sense attraction. It was because he hated frightening his students, his role as teacher stirring within, and the sensation of judgement washed over him. Not just by her, but them all. His knuckles tightened, the ruler raised above and held in hesitation.

CRACK!

Avery was awake instantly. The sound occurring just inches from his position where the ruler had smacked upon his desk edge, his face filled with fear and breathing harshly in panic. Slowly his green eyes darted into Charles’ deep, luminous purple ones. The silence was immediately broken by a few giggling individuals, amused by the proceedings, while man’s cheeks reddened by embarrassment.

Charles wasn’t the least bit sympathetic since his voice resumed his lesson. This quickly quieted the small chuckling mob, his figure turned on heel and began to stroll back to the center once more. He dissipated the ruler with a jerk of his hand then folded it behind his back. 

[color=#7BCDC8] “It was then that another man, James Flounders, suggested a registration act. This act required all mages past the age of 15 to be listed within the government records. Most believed this was to enable a better way to retain a catalog of the population, who was capable of what spells and develop a control force to prevent and control casualties within the populace. However a few individuals still question it today.”[/color] His hand waved toward the image, wiping it out, signalling the end of class. He then turned to face the men and women currently collecting their things, their figures stirred the moment they knew it was time to leave, and mentioned their new assignment.

[color=#7BCDC8] "Also, assignments over the Magical Laws and Registration are due next week. These will be opinion based and oral reports, so make sure you’ve practiced well. Don’t forget to make sure you deliver last week's assignment over Salem witch trials on my desk before the end of my work day. That's exactly 3 pm and any papers afterwards receive no credit for the course’s overall grade. Have a good day. "[/color]

Watching the students edge forward then lay their papers upon his desk, Charles relaxed against the far edge.  His greyish smokey eyes watched the them all gradually depart before he considered taking a seat. It had been a trying year and a half since the occupation began. Part of him had worried that Zander’s University for Magical Arts would’ve been closed down or the class circuralim altered in a fashion to hamper the student’s knowledge and applications of magic when the Prae too over. Much to his relief, it thankfully never happened causing his worrying to be for nothing.

He turned to retrieve the papers only to note one student still remained. Lauren. Curious as to why she lingered back, Charles turned slowly to face her and wait for her explanation. Her mouth open but snapped again, her words failing her. Her fingers twisted in nervous energy in front of her and toyed with her tee shirt, tugging it downward. Seeing her so wired with desperation but lacking strength to speak caused Charles to crack a small smile. It was small reminder he didn’t bite unless provoked and she hasn’t done anything for such a thing.

That gesture seemed to spark her courage enough to address her concerns.

“I-I’m sorry Professor Aeon, for bothering you but there was something I wanted your thoughts over.” She stuttered a bit drawing a hint of worry in Charles, his eyes tightened in suspicion over the reason and nodded.

[color=#7BCDC8] “Very well. Please allow me to get you a seat and we’ll talk about it. Just don’t forget to place your assignment on the desk before we begin.”[/color] He had noted she hasn’t gotten around to place it, the immortal’s figured moving off to retrieve it.

He quickly collected the nearest chair, picking it up easily then strolled to Ms. Smockins. Setting it down, he gestured her for sit and moved around his desk. Causally he sat down then slide forward, resting his elbows upon the hard wood surface before starting again.

[color=#7BCDC8] “Now, Ms. Smockins, please enlighten me over the topic that seems to be troubling you.”[/color]

“I’m worried for someone very close to me, my sister Sarah. She’s mentioned something about going to a meeting in protest-”

Unexpectedly, Charles raised a hand abruptly making Lauren jump. His eyes studied the classroom, searching for something, tension subtly raising to surface with the passing time. [color=#7BCDC8] “It’s a very dangerous thing I suspect she’s attempting to achieve and likely it will not end well. Individuals within occupied territories protesting against what they see as unfair laws never do and I hope you tried to talk some sense into her. Namely to sway her from attending?”[/color]

 “I tried, but Sarah is a very...stubborn. She believes not all Licentia are as evil as the Prae advertise. She’s went to nearly every rally protesting against the slang and now with the disappearances starting, I fear she might do something drastic to draw attention. She’s my younger sister and I can’t bare if something happened to her.” Lauren spoke, her voice trembling, and seemed to be holding back a torrent of emotion.

Charles sighed in a mixture of irritation and defeat, tilting his figure to the side before plucking a handkerchief from the first desk drawer. He then flicked it in her direction while waiting for her to take it. Unable to hold back the tears, Lauren removed it from his grip to wipe them away. Charles did not enjoy the sight of an excellent student in distress and made the only offer he knew would sooth over her worry. [color=#7BCDC8] “I’ll see what I can do. Go home and focus on your studies, there’s a pop quiz tomorrow over the report you did. Though please try not to tell anyone.”[/color]

“Thank, oh god thank you…” Lauren uttered in relief as she pulled upright, her books collected in her arms. She then passed over a well worn image of a girl much younger, about sixteen or seventeen, and nearly sporting identical features. “This is her. Please, Professor, bring her home safe.”

When she departed, Charles leaned far back in his chair and tilted his head back. He wondered how in the world he was going to manage to bring a wayward teenager back from the brink of a ‘righteous’ path. Whatever happened to education being the way to make an impression upon the world? Charles thought grimly, missing the days where females didn’t dart head first into trouble before thinking about their reputations.

[center]~~~|Ｅvening, Outskirts of Ominar|~~~[/center]


It had gotten late, but Charles had finally found it.

His eyes glance up to the skies, noting their greyish hue and churning movements, realizing it reflected his own mood. At his side was a metallic colored and transparent greyhound. The beast stood in alert at his heels, its nose twitching in eagerness and panting heavily.  It was noisy enough to cause him to glaze down to give it a look resulting in the beast ceasing it immediately. It never ceased to intrigue Charles that his golems often mimicked the behavior of any creature they were molded after. Even when they didn’t require air, food, water or become tired from endless activities. This part he knew for certain having performed tests to determine it.

Dismissing his inanimate companion, Charles moved into the meeting. He had decided to copy a few of his younger student’s tastes in clothing in order to blend into the crowds while keeping a hint of his own flavor in the selection choice. His current outfit could be summed up in a few words: a waistcoat and jacket combination covering a white shirt, ripped knee jeans and scuffed tennis shoes.  On his head was a ball cap made to serve a dual purpose of allowing him to hide his eyes when his head was down and flatten some of his wild curls.

It wasn’t his best disguise but it was suitable for the task at hand. As long as no one attempted to talk with him and realize his phasing was too highly educated for his appearance, all was well.

Charles moved silently through the collecting crowds, ignoring the man speaking to the established mob. Most were hypnotized by the man’s words and fortunately didn’t seem to mind him moving through them, their faces fixed to the front. He glanced down to the photo to recall the woman then jerked back to scan the faces.

"Now, I know you have a lot of questions about what we are doing here. There are a lot of different people, from many walks of life. Some human like myself, many licentia, and a few prae as well. We all however do have one thing in common, we are afraid of what our city has become. Many of the prae, no offense to those here, have taken over our city,and changed it for the worse. That might not be so scary, but what they are doing to all of us is. Anyone who disagrees with them 'mysteriously' disappears, and are often labeled as possessed. My uncle has disappeared, only a note left. Who here has had someone they care about mysteriously vanish!?"

The crowd erupted into a roar of approval causing Charles to flinch. It took a great amount of willpower not to instinctively jerk his head about and look obviously alarmed. In the background, the crowd finally settled down and resumed listening. This was enough to cause Charles to ease his rattled nerves down. It seemed the speaker was struggling to retain control due to the number of attendees, understandable since there was many, causing Charles to focus on his task. Again, he moved slowly through individuals. 

"Now, To the licentia here, yes, we know you are predators. Hell, I'm a little intimidated by a few of you, but there's hardly been an incident in this city worth kicking the whole lot of you out. You are all valued members of society, and your magic has helped our fair city.

To the prae, few as you are, hasn't your kind discriminated against you for the smallest disobedience? Can they not let you have the smallest amount of freedom in this world you now call your home?

And to the rest of us, isn't it time we took our city back? This is Medius dammit.”

Charles was silent, through his thoughts were screaming in his head. This was how wars were started, bloodshed, and finally lives were lost. If it wasn’t for the fact he had purged that memory so long ago, he could almost swore the Civil Revolution was sparking again. This time instead of the British, it would be the Prae. A far more dangerous foe. Would they really be ready for it or would the Prae finally make up their minds about humans and deem them too dangerous to live?

He shuddered at the terrible thought. The man’s last statement drew a soft, indignified scoff under Charles’ breath. Each word echoed in his head while he tried to ignore the threat it posed for the future.

"Now, we can't just start rioting in the streets, remember how that turned out last time. I have a...confidant who has helped me devise a plan of what we can do. There are several things we can do. For fear of espionage, we'd like to keep details to a minimum, but I can say this. There have been hundreds, maybe thousands wrongfully imprisoned. Many of our friends. We can't let anymore go to that prison. Who knows what the prae in power have done to it?

"Now. we need leaders, people we can trust. Will all those who consider themselves capable join me?"

Charles nearly rolled his eyes at the last bit, still keeping an eye out for his quarry.