Theodore's brain had officially given up trying to process what just happened. Complete geographical annihilation followed by a casual time reversal?

Yeah, sure, why not.

What Rank even was she?

Had to be what, Rank 6? Rank 7? Or was she even higher than that? Did Ranks even go higher than that? Theodore wasn't entirely sure anymore.

The woman was still watching him with that same mild expression, like she hadn't just broken several laws of physics and probably a few laws of nature while she was at it. Waiting for his response. Like this was normal.

Something didn't add up though. Why him? Why now? She'd said his purple fire would be useful to her, but he was too weak. Way too weak, apparently. Which, rude, but also probably accurate given what he'd just witnessed. So what was her angle? Nobody just offered to train someone out of the goodness of their heart. Not at this level of power. There was always a catch, always a price, always something they wanted in return.

The purple fire. Had to be about that. But what could she possibly want with it? He could barely control the damn thing without killing himself in the process by accident, and when he did, it wasn't exactly world-ending levels of power. At least, not compared to what she'd just demonstrated. So either she knew something about it that he didn't—which, very possible—or she was playing some longer game he couldn't see yet.

Theodore was getting real tired of people knowing more about his abilities than he did.

"Well?" the woman asked. "Have you made your decision?"

"I need to think about it," Theodore said, because what else was he supposed to say? Yes, please teach me your terrifying magic, mysterious woman who can delete reality? Actually, that didn't sound too bad when he put it that way, but still. Due diligence and all that.

She smiled. "Of course. Take your time. Though not too much time. I'm not known for my patience."

Before Theodore could respond, she cast a spell again.

"[Blink]."

The world lurched again.

This time Theodore was ready for it. Well, ready-ish. As ready as anyone could be for getting yanked through space-time like a cosmic yo-yo. The sensation was still deeply unpleasant, like his organs were trying to rearrange themselves alphabetically, but at least he didn't feel like throwing up this time.

Progress.

They materialized high above Astra Lucis again, the capital sprawling beneath them Then, without pause, the woman gestured downward, and they plummeted.

They phased through the shop's roof—through it, not into it—and suddenly Theodore was standing in the tea room again, his feet on solid ground, his everything intact.

Freya had Senna in a headlock.

Or was trying to. The assistant was bent backward at an angle that suggested either incredible flexibility or a complete disregard for how spines were supposed to work, while Freya's arms were wrapped around empty air where Senna's neck had been a second ago.

"—you to kidnap—"

"I didn't kidnap anyone, you violent—"

"Ladies," the woman in black said mildly.

Both women froze.

Senna straightened up, smoothing her dress with as much dignity as someone who'd just been in a wrestling match could manage. Freya's head snapped toward Theodore, her face shifting from fury to concern in about half a second.

"Theo! You're—" She scowled at the woman in black, flames already starting to flicker around her fingers. "What did you do to him?"

"I'm fine," Theodore said quickly, because the last thing he needed was Freya trying to fistfight someone who could unleash such levels of destruction. "Seriously, I'm okay. She just... showed me something."

Freya's scowl deepened, but the flames died down. Mostly. There were still little sparks dancing between her fingers, but that was just Freya's baseline state of barely contained violence.

"Sit," the woman in black said, settling back into her chair like they hadn't just been space-hopping. "Both of you."

Theodore sat. After a moment and several more suspicious glares, Freya did too.

"I suppose," the woman said, picking up her teacup—still warm, somehow—"that introductions are in order. My name is Seraphina."

"I'm sure you have questions," Seraphina continued, taking a sip of her tea. "I'm also sure you're wondering about my intentions, my goals, what I could possibly want with someone of your current... limited capabilities."

Ouch.

"However," she set down her cup, "those are questions best answered by someone you trust. You should go home, Theodore Lockheart. Ask your grandfather about becoming my apprentice." She smiled. "August and I are old acquaintances."

Of course his grandfather knew the terrifyingly powerful woman who could delete monster hordes with a hand wave. Why wouldn't he? At this point, Theodore wouldn't be surprised if his grandfather was secretly best friends with a dragon or something.

"You know my grandfather?"

"I know many people," Seraphina said, which wasn't really an answer. "But yes, August Lockheart and I have... history. He'll tell you what you need to know. Or at least, what he thinks you need to know, which amounts to the same thing with August. Now, I believe our time is up. Senna will show you out."

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Senna, who'd been glaring at Freya this entire time, straightened up with obvious reluctance. "This way, please."

Theodore stood, Freya rising beside him with considerably less grace and considerably more suspicious glowering.

"Think about my offer," Seraphina said as they reached the door. "But don't think too long. As I said, patience is not among my virtues."

The door opened—without anyone touching it—and Theodore found himself being ushered out into the street. The moment they crossed the threshold, he felt that same weird ripple, like reality was adjusting itself back to normal and when he looked back, the door to the shop was gone.

Freya was still glaring daggers at the air as they walked away.

***

"So what happened? Are you alright? Where did she take you? Are you hurt? She didn't do anything, did she?"

The questions started the moment they were in a carriage. Freya had grabbed his arm, presumably to make sure he was still solid and not some kind of illusion or something. Her grip was just shy of painful, but Theodore didn't pull away. It was kind of nice, actually, having someone worry about him like that.

"She flew us above the capital," Theodore said, figuring he might as well start with the most normal part. "We were just... hovering there."

"She took you flying?"

"More like floating. Very high floating. Then she teleported us to Holden—"

"Holden?!" Freya's grip tightened. Definitely painful now.

"Yeah, there was a monster horde heading for the town. Hundreds of them."

"And?"

"And she unmade them."

Freya blinked. "Unmade?"

"Like they never existed. One spell and they were just gone. Obliterated. Then she reversed time to fix the landscape damage."

"She reversed time."

"Yeah."

"To fix landscape damage."

"Yeah."

"After obliterating a monster horde."

"That's what I said."

Freya was quiet for a moment, processing this. Then: "I really want to fight her."

"Freya, no."

"Freya, yes."

"She could kill you by sneezing too hard."

"What a way to go though."

Theodore bonked her on the head with his free hand. "No dying. That's a rule."

"You're no fun." But she was smiling now, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "So what does she want with you?"

"To make me her apprentice, apparently."

"Why?"

"Something about my purple fire being useful to her. Eventually. Once I'm not pathetically weak."

"You're not pathetically weak."

"Compared to her? I'm basically an ant."

"A very clever ant."

"Thanks, that's so much better."

Freya laughed, finally releasing his arm. Theodore flexed his fingers, trying to get feeling back in them. "We should get back. I need to talk to grandfather."

"About her?"

"About everything, apparently. She said they know each other."

"Of course they do," Freya muttered. "Your grandfather knows everyone."

They walked back to the Lockheart estate in comfortable silence, or at least as comfortable as silence could be when one of them was still occasionally shooting suspicious glares back toward the shop district. The estate gates opened for them—the guards recognized them on sight—and they made their way up the long driveway.

Theodore had questions. So many questions.

***

"My lord! My lord!"

Theodore—or rather, his clone, though really what was the difference—looked up from the ledger he'd been reviewing. Cedric burst through the door, face pale, sweat beading on his forehead despite the winter cold. The usually composed butler-turned-administrator looked about three seconds from full panic.

"A horde!" Cedric gasped, grabbing the doorframe for support. "There's a massive horde of monsters approaching the walls! The scouts just reported—hundreds of them, my lord. Dire wolves, frost bears, even drakes!"

Theodore set down his quill carefully, keeping his expression calm even though internally he was thinking that Seraphina's timing had been impressively precise. The horde had been dealt with what, five minutes ago? And the news was just arriving now. She'd handled the entire situation before Holden's scouts could even finish their report.

"Breathe, Cedric," Theodore said, standing. "The situation has been dealt with."

"Dealt with?" Cedric's voice cracked. "My lord, this horde is unprecedented! We've never seen anything like this, not in all my years here. The guards are mobilizing, but against those numbers—"

"Cedric." Theodore put a hand on the man's shoulder. "I said it's been dealt with. Send scouts to verify, but they'll find nothing but empty snow."

"But... how?"

"We have a powerful ally who was watching over us," Theodore said, which was technically true if you squinted and didn't ask too many questions. "The threat was eliminated before it could reach our walls."

Cedric stared at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Eliminated? The entire horde?"

"The entire horde."

"That's... that's impossible."

Theodore thought about Seraphina casually reversing time and decided that 'impossible' had lost a lot of meaning today. "Send the scouts. Have them report back immediately. And Cedric? Keep this quiet for now. No need to cause panic over a threat that no longer exists."

"Yes, my lord." Cedric still looked shell-shocked, but he was pulling himself together. Good man. "Should I stand down the guard?"

"No, keep them alert. But maybe give them something to do. Drill formations or something. Keep them busy but not panicked."

"Of course." Cedric hesitated. "My lord, this ally you mentioned..."

"Is not someone we need to worry about," Theodore said firmly. "Trust me on this."

After Cedric left, still looking dazed, Theodore decided he should probably address the troops. Not a full speech or anything—he wasn't much for speeches—but a few words to keep morale steady. Let them know they were protected, that Holden had powerful friends, that sort of thing.

He made his way to the walls where guards were indeed mobilizing, weapons drawn, eyes scanning the horizon for threats that would never come. Theodore climbed the steps to the ramparts, and conversations died as soldiers noticed him.

"Lord Theodore!"

"My lord, the horde—"

"Has been dealt with," Theodore said, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. Word would spread from there. "A powerful ally intervened on our behalf. The threat is eliminated."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Confusion, relief, suspicion—the full range of reasonable responses to being told that hundreds of monsters had just conveniently disappeared.

Theodore spent the next few minutes reassuring soldiers, deflecting questions he couldn't answer, and generally trying to project an air of calm confidence. Yes, they were safe. No, he couldn't explain exactly what happened. Yes, they should remain vigilant. No, the horde wasn't coming back.

By the time he made it back to his office, word had spread throughout the keep. The panic was subsiding, replaced by confused relief and wild speculation about their mysterious protector. Theodore let them speculate. The truth was weirder than anything they could imagine anyway.

He slumped into his chair, suddenly exhausted. Being in two places at once was convenient, but it didn't make either experience less draining. His real body was probably approaching the estate by now, getting ready to interrogate his grandfather.

The clone—himself—whatever—rubbed his temples. Too many questions, not enough answers. But at least now he had somewhere to start.

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