What Comes Around

Peterke

It would seem that he had made the same mistake that he berated others for making. Including, but not limited to, the few students that he had over the years. He hadn't planned for the worse, not that many would have thought that Alaeddin would have been able to summon an ancient warrior without a wand.

　　Nor would many think of planning for a teenager who was ready to burn them until only ashes remained. He had seen the murderous glint in her eye, one that spoke of latent blood knight tendencies, something modern media portray as being a male trait. They were idiots; Ibolya, Red Lions and now the blonde girl were perfect examples of a female Blood Knight.

　　They had been so close. They had Jada's Heir in grasp, the son of King Solomon's Magi. At least one of them, he could never find information about the other two. Other then they were both female, and one was a traitor.

　　Thinking back on it, there were so many things that he didn't prepare for. So many, he hadn't expected their to be one of Solomon's Djin guarding the front entrance. Didn't think that he would tell them that they 'weren't welcome in the Sacred Palace', didn't think a Red Lion of all clans to break his collar bone and Ibolya's arm.

　　Peterke had been arrogant. He had thought that he'd be dealing with a seventeen year old at the oldest, fifteen at the youngest. His failure had caused them to have an awkward conversation with the ER doctor about how they had broken their bones that neatly. Ibolya's almost needed surgery, but they were sure with how neat the break was, that it would heal on it's own. If not, they could always re-break it later.

　　He could have healed their bones himself, but that was months of magoi that he didn't have. They guessed that it would take his collarbone at least six months to heal, while Ibolya's was estimated to up to ten months to fully heal. At least it would give him time to make a plan to deal with the unexpected. At the same time, it would give Alaeddin and his warriors time to get stronger and more confident in their abilities. Not that he had a choice in the matter, modern Mages needed both hands to do anything with their magoi.

　　"It would seem our little fire mouse isn't as she seems," Ibolya told him as she walked into their living room, a large book held between her ribs and arm. Nudging a photo book from the coffee table she placed both of them in front of him.

　　Photo's he'd taken since the camera was invented, all of them what could be found about the first people of their world. The ones who fled the world that Jada had created, why? He didn't know, nor did anyone else who knew about it.

　　There were theories, but Peterke knew when there's an unknown event in their history, even a known one, there would always be theories.

　　He did find out that dungeons had a habit of spilting people up when they left. So it wouldn't surprise him if that was what happened with a spell that large. That piece of information came from a story about the Fire Princess, about how she had gotten the spirit of one of Solomon's warriors.

　　It would explain why Asians, Africans and Europeans looked different. Along with those who lived in the Middle East and Pacific. At least those who were native to those parts.

　　He didn't care for the Big Bang Theory. Since it didn't explain how they were different. Along with the different tones in skin among people from the same heritage. It didn't explain enough for him to care about it.

　　"Oh, she isn't?" Peterke asked her. Ibolya rolled her eyes as she dragged out her art portfolio, leaving it open in front of him.

　　He had been surprised the first time she had drown the faded cave paintings. Since she had been able to guess what the missing parts looked like based on what could be seen. He thought anything that delight would be out of her reach.

　　Ibolya did like surprising him. She was one of his least straight forward, one minded students. He had had enough of them for more then a life time.

　　"In record," she said pointing to the two pictures. One of them was the Fire Princess herself, while the other was of the Lava Queen. "We know of four Warriors who had Fire Djin. Two were female, two were male."

　　"The Fire Princess or the Lava Queen reborn," Peterke told her, the other two. The Healing King and the Blue-Flamed Prince, either way any of the four would be trouble. The blonde girl didn't look like any of them.

　　"Asha was the name she shouted," Ibolya added, her pale skin glowing underneath cheap lights. "I'm leaning towards more the Fire Princess. Bastard daughter of a King, known to be friends with Jada's Heir and a Red Lion girl."

　　"For she walked into the darkness, disappearing into a field of golden butterflies," Peterke said, recalling a few words of the Fire Princesses story. "A fire-y red girl following. Both of them walk in the darkness; to return in the world's greatest time of need."

　　"Classic sleeping king story," Ibolya told him.

　　"Doesn't mean it's her," he remarked.

　　"Closet of the two," she told him. "Best bet out of the four, if I'm to be honest. The only one whose blonde."

　　Peterke had to give her that much, but the Fire Princess had more then one element under her control. At least that's what the myths said. Modern mortals wouldn't be able to handle that much stern. It would most likely kill her if that was the case.

　　"Those two aren't going to stay out of it," Peterke said watching as Ibolya started to draw the Fire Princess. At least the earliest paintings of the Fire Princess found in the mountains of India.

　　"Principle Carvins is a known actor," Ibolya agreed, smiling as she tightened her hold on her pencil. "Hollywood actors don't much privacy these days. Should be easy to search him up, the short one should show up with him."

　　"We'll have to be careful," Peterke told her. He didn't think she would need the warning, but that little fire was ready to kill them and not many teenagers were ready to murder someone. Even if it was to protect someone, they generally froze when Ibolya went for their throat.

　　"As you say," Ibolya told him. "Always expect the unexpected, plan for the worst."

　　"She's willing to kill," Peterke reminded her, pointing to her arm, reminding her of the Red Lion. "That makes her dangerous, more so then the Red Lion and those Mages."

　　"More then Alaeddin," she remarked. "And that giant, she's the only willing to kill. That we know so far."