ℂ𝕒𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕕𝕦𝕞 ℂ𝕒𝕖𝕣𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕦𝕞

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 1 - ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕚𝕡𝕚𝕦𝕞 𝕀𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕦𝕞

Sinclair was leaning on a wall talking to his friend Alex when Behold asked the class to get into a circle to practice an incantation together, Sinclair brought out his study book, staring at the weirdly written letters as Behold talking. Sinclair chanted with the rest, whispering the words Ex forma mutata. Facti sunt figura novi. A fellow student rushed in late, getting caught red handed by their teacher. Behold yelled to the late student . "Mr Banks! If you ever expect to rise beyond level 1 you will arrive on time, if punctuality is too taxing for you join the Magic Castle and do card tricks with Neil Patrick Harris."

"I'm sorry, sir." Banks replied while staring down at the floor.

Behold quickly continued, "And you forgot your book... Again!" He used his magic to take the spell book off a shelf and into Banks hands. "Now let's see if you've been practicing your spells, or just fiddling with your wand." Behold finished. Soon enough everyone in the circle was chanting, everyone getting louder each minute as Behold says words of encouragement, the spell forcing tiny glass to transform itself into a ball midair, Behold yells out in glee at the achievement the class had made.

It was quickly interrupted by Baldwin who was already standing inside the room when people noticed him. "Mr Chablis and Mr Moore , we've been summoned." He looked concerned before glancing in Sinclairs direction, Sinclair quickly shut his book and put it down on a table before walking with Behold out the door with Baldwin following. "You think it's my dad?" Sinclair asked Behold. "Yeah, probably, he usually calls for you when he's here." Behold replied with a sigh, John usually only came with bad news but on the rare occasion it was good news.

Walking to Beholds office made Sinclair think of the many reasons as to why him and Behold was summoned, but of course he had no actual idea. Reaching Beholds office Sinclair saw his father sitting in a chair smoking, something he usually claimed to give up only to start again.

"John Henry Moore, something must be grotesquely important for you to be stinking up my office with that cancer stick.... I thought you quit?" Behold asks him confused. "Believe me Behold, he never quits." Sinclair says before sitting down in the chair beside his dad. "I quit every week, you might need one after you've seen what I've seen." John answers, ignoring his sons words.

"Please, allow our colleagues and your son to make their own unbiased evaluation." Ariel turned his chair making Baldwin gasp with delight. "Ariel... nobody told us you were coming. I'll make arrangements for a celebration tonight. The students can meet their Grand Chancellor." Baldwin spoke while Sinclair furrowed his eyebrows at Baldwin. "I doubt he's come here for a social gathering." He looks back at Ariel who then responds. "No, I haven't come for a social gathering as Sinclair said," Ariel stood up and began walking around making both Sinclair and John get out of their seats. "There is something much more pressing," Ariel walked to a table that held an apple laptop, making sure we all followed him before continuing. "This was sent to me by a sympathetic member of the Los Angeles Police Department." He pressed a key on the keyboard and suddenly a video started to play.

A boy, 17 or 18 at the very least sat in an interrogation room in a black shirt with no sleeves, ripped black jeans with black boots. Sinclair furrowed his eyebrows again at the video as it played, sensing that something bad was going to be shown.

"Does that help with your memory?" A detective  in a white t-shirt pushed the boy onto the table, making Sinclair inwardly shiver of the memories it also brought him but pushed it aside for the sake of his dad.

"I didn't do anything!" The boy whined in the video as the detective circled the boy. "Except stab him, with five knives," Sinclair saw his dad take another puff of his cigarette out of the corner of his eye, he quickly focused back on the video. "You were the only one there... you sick little fuck!" The detective swore at the trembling boy, leaning his hands on the table in front of the boy who was trying to make himself as small as physically possible.