It had been one of the longest nights she’d had in a while. Everything had to be difficult for poor Amelia Vanderbilt, Noble woman of the great King Baltman. If one looked up, they could watch the beautiful twinkling of millions of stars. If one were to peer down the alley, next to Milley’s Sew Shop on 5th street, they could watch Amelia drain the blood of the local paperboy.

“Shh.” She brushed her dove gray glove against the boy’s frightened face, his flush cheeks quickly draining of color. ”You shouldn’t have followed me, dear.” She said softly, smiling as if she were merely lecturing the boy for eating too many sweets. “Curiosity killed the cat.” She sighed, brushing his curling golden locks behind his ear. Her kitten mewed behind her and she giggled and the sound of tinkling silver bells rang out into the night. “Oh Gibli, you say the silliest things!—oh!” she grimaced as the blood that had been spilling into an old perfume bottle, was now dripping onto her glove. “That’ll do, I suppose.” She grumbled and got up, letting the boy slump into the corner.

She licked the drops of blood that beaded on her glove, leaving the leather clean and spotless. “Fool.” She muttered under her breath and tucked the bottle into hidden fold in her petticoat. The cat mewed and followed behind her. “I would have left him alone if he hadn’t been snooping about for the past week. I’m sure he knew something was amiss.” She glanced back at Gibli, shrugging her shoulders when the cat yowled. “I don’t care to discuss it anymore, cat.” She mumbled, turning down another street. Her quick feet carried her, clicking away on the cobblestones, all the way to the crème de la crème of London. The street only the wealthiest and powerful families lived; Excelsior Way.

Gibli had fallen behind a few streets back, maybe chasing a rat? Amelia opened the gate and climbed the steps to her front door which swung open. The comforting aroma of withering flowers and vanilla greeted her, along with her only servant, Gibli. Amelia took of her coat, handing it to him before climbing the stairs that encircled her greeting area. “Gibli! Fetch me my crown!” she called, disappearing into one of the many burgundy doors that lined the halls.

Gibli ran up to Amelia’s closet, which was actually a room filled with an obscured amount of the finest cloths Europe and the exotic lands had to offer, and placed the coat with the others. He began for the door before remembering what his mistress had ordered him and picked up a crown of blossoming flowers from the tea table as he exited.

Gibli entered on the scene. His mistress, clad in only a translucent green robe that hugged her body, sitting on her legs in the middle of a symbol he had come to recognize. “Bring it here.” She seemed to breathe life into the candles as each wick burst with a little flame like falling pillars, one by one. The walls were lined with light, leaving the center, where Lady Vanderbilt sat, early shadowed. He slowly began forward, falling to one knee as he offered her the crown. She took them from his palms, her finger tips brushing the sensitive skin, making it tingle. He jumped to his feet, already knowing this ritual by heart.

Amelia began to hum and chant beneath her breath, the sound was soft and uncanny and somehow made the silence in the room thick with anticipation. At first, the moonlight started as a sliver down her back, and then grew, swallowing her and the symbol up in its luminescent beauty. You couldn’t hear the sizzling of wax and wick, just her chanting and breathing. Nothing existed but Lady Amelia and her ritual as she reached forward and popped the top off of the old perfume bottle.

Gibli stepped forward, careful not to step into the ritual space, and gently slipped the robe from around her shoulders, revealing soft supple skin. Her chanting intensified, along with the silence that surrounded them. Gibli stumbled back into a table against the wall, knocking over a vase, but Lady Vanderbilt was already deep into her ceremony to notice.

Her voice rose higher and higher until the room was filled with her whaling and mantras. She emptied the bottle atop her, drizzling it all over her crown, hair, face and body until the last drop left it. Her singing stopped, and the light flickered and dimmed into nothingness, leaving only Amelia in the pale moonlight.

“Gibli.” She rasped, reaching her hand out. He quickly handed her the robe and began picking up after the mess he made. “See that this is cleaned up before you go to bed.” Amelia shakily pulled the robe over herself, hugging it tightly around her. “Tomorrow, I have company coming over. It’s Mademoiselle Finik. Probably needs another ‘love potion’.” She made air quotes and rolled her eyes before moving for the door. “Use the alchemy table and put that together in the morning…. We’ve done well, tonight.” She sighed and once again, disappeared from sight.

It was a tiny room. In it sat a single person bed. Butted up between the short distance between the side of the headboard and the wall was a humble little desk. On it sat a kerosene lamp, a dusty top hat and a modified pair of goggles. Propped up against the far wall, if you could call it far, was a large cross shaped trunk. Inside of which, was a series of compartments varying in size. Harold slept soundly as the sun began to rise in the sky. Last night he was officially granted the right to study the supernatural on his own. The head master, brother Dominic, had deemed him worthy. After spending all of his life learning the ways of the order, Harold felt it was about time.

A soft knock fell upon the door. Followed by several increasingly louder knocks. Harold sleepily rose from his bed and dragged himself to the door. He opened it to reveal initiate brother Maynard, holding a small piece of parchment. Harold took it from the man, smiled and thanked him. The sunlight was beginning to stream through the tiny window as Harold sat down at the desk to read the note. It was his first official assignment. Harold smiled to himself. He continued reading. It was just to investigate minor specter activity in a butcher shop in London. He sighed as he leaned back in his chair. While learning how to handle different supernatural situations in the relative safety of the monastery was one thing. Actually putting it to practical use was quite another. A simple specter shouldn't be too difficult for his first assignment. At least that is what he hoped.

Harlod slowly stood up and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair and put it on. He strapped it down over his chest and wrists. He slipped on his finger less gloves and donned his top hat. He walked over to his cross and opened it up. He rifled through a few things, until he found a pair of lenses. They would allow him to see in the ectoplasmic spectrum. Which was the way to identify ghosts and different specters. He placed the lenses in the goggles that were strapped to his hat and closed the cross. He hauled the cross up onto his back and headed to the stables. As he walked with the large cross on his back, he appeared to be heading to his own crucifixion. It was surprisingly light despite it's size and all the items it carried in it. While Harold took solace in scientific knowledge, he carried the cross out of superstition that supernatural beings hate any object that resembles a holy relic. Even though no proof existed of such, Harold considered himself "better safe than sorry".

Harold reached the stables and untied his horse, Buttercup. He hoisted himself onto her back and strapped the cross to his. He spurred her along the trail that would lead to London. It was a thirty minute ride to the city. Harold took that time to admire the forest he rode through and the view of the city as he rode down the hill towards it. It was a fairly cool morning with a slight breeze that kept the bugs away. The ride went a little quicker than Harold would have liked. He knew it was his job now to make sure the citizens of London weren't plagued by anything supernatural. It didn't mean he didn't feel pangs of nervousness in taking this first assignment.

He slowed his horse to a walk as he entered the city streets. People were already bustling to and fro as the day got underway. A few people gave him odd looks, but most kept to themselves. He took the note from his pocket and reread the address again. A few minutes later he arrived in front of a small butcher shop. Where a stout bearded man sat in front of the door, looking dejected. "I say my good man." Harold called out. "Might you be the proprietor of this establishment?" The man looked at him oddly. Then a look of joy spread across his face and he stood up and walked over to Harold. "Did they send you?" He asked. "Did they send you to help save my shop? There's some strange business been going on for the last few days in there." Harold dismounted his horse and tied her to a post. He walked to the door of the shop and stopped. He than began to examine the outside of the shop intently.

"Tell me what has been going on." Harold said to the man, still studying the outside of the building. "Well," The man started. "It started a few days ago. I noticed things were moved around the shop. I thought it was odd, but shrugged it off. Then, two days ago, a ham randomly flew up and hit one of my customers in the face. A ham! That's when I wrote you." Harold turned around to face the man and smiled. "No need to fear. I shall have this little problem of your taken care of." Harold said. He turned back and opened the door to the shop. He unstrapped the cross and leaned it up against the door as it closed. He lowered his goggles over his face as he opened the cross. The hummed a little as he grabbed the items he would need. He grabbed a piece of chalk, a vial of salt, and a small silver spoon.

He closed the cross as he began to explore the shop. Even in the bright light of afternoon, the shop was dark. It smelt of random assortments of meat and had a film of dust over the floor. Harold began walking around and talking out loud. "Hello good sir spirit. You are troubling this shopkeeper and he wishes you gone from the premises. No one wishes you any harm, but we would like you to return to the spirit world." He stopped walking as he spoke. There was no sound to be heard. As the seconds past and nothing was happening, Harold began to grown uneasy.

Suddenly the room grew cold. Harold looked around intently. At first, the room appeared empty. As he continued looking he saw a shimmering figure slowly floating through the air. It had no discerning features other than it was human shaped. Harold was taken aback for a moment as the being just floated randomly too and fro. He quickly ran to the middle of the store and drew three concentric circles on the floor. He held the small silver spoon towards the floating figure. Silver was always a good go to for protection from the supernatural.

The figure than began to float towards Harold and stopped and hovered slightly in front of him. "If you could, uh, just get in that circle please good sir?" Harold motioned towards the circle with his spoon. The figure slowly floated away towards the counter. "I command you good spirit. Get in the circle and return from whence you came!" Harold ordered, a little shocked by his own bravery. The figured stop floating just above the counter where the butcher kept all his cuts of meats. Before he had a chance to react, the figure began lobbing cuts of meat at Harold. Harold was so flummoxed that he couldn't avoid being hit in the face with a chicken breast. He wiped the slimy residue of his face with disgust.

He gained his composure and began to avoid the flying meats. All the while continuing to try and command the spirit. After a few minutes of getting nowhere, Harold began to throw pieces of meat back at the spirit. To his surprise, he noticed that it followed the flight path of whatever meat was thrown at it, and returned fire. With that Harold had an idea. He slowly circled the spirit while still throwing meats and avoiding being hit. Until the spirit was between him and the circle. Harold lobbed a piece of meat that landed perfectly in the circles. As the spirit floated down to grab the meat, Harold quickly ran and poured salt around the circle to contain the spirit. He stepped back and saw the spirit remaining perfectly still in the circle.

Harold laughed to himself. He had succeeded at his first assignment. He looked back at the spirit. What was he to do with it? He couldn't leave it trapped in the store. An idea sprang to mind. He walked over next to the circles and began to sprinkle salt over the spirit. As it fell, it pushed the spirit down into the cut of meat. He then slowly picked up the piece of ham and observed it. Through his goggles he could see it glow with spiritual energy. He went and put the ham into his cross, dusted his hands off, and walked out the door. He tipped his hat to the owner as he got on his horse. "Your shop is back to normal." As Harold trotted away he could hear the owner yelling something behind him. "Probably just thanking me." Harold grinned. As he rode, something made Harold look to the right. For a second he thought he saw a cat, just staring at him through an alleyway. He blinked and it was gone.

“This is all I’ll need, I assure you.” Amelia inspected the ball of hair Ms. Gloria Tinder had placed into her hand. “This man will have heavens judgment brought down on him, don’t you worry.” She placed the hair on a silver platter and stood up as Gibli came by, retrieving the platter and exiting the room, hastily. Gloria’s sullen expression brightened a glimmer in her eye. “He doesn’t even deserve to be called a man. Swine is how I see it.” Gloria huffed causing Amelia’s eyebrow to quirk. “Well, there’s an idea.” She grinned fiendishly and Gloria giggled into her saturated handkerchief. “Ms. Tinder, please learn from this experience. Men are stupid and simple; don’t let their petty promises of love and grandeur blind you from their true intentions.”

The door to the library opened, Gibli bowed over ever so slightly. “Lady Tinder? May I show you to the door?” As if something troubled her, Gloria remained seated in the plush velvet couch, her eyes drawn to the carpet beneath her feet. Amelia stared at her, as if looking into her thoughts then smiled wryly, a light hearted laugh escaping her lips and it only made Gloria’s cheeks darkened with color. “Of course, you’ll need to bleed on your next first time.” She rummaged through a drawer in her desk as she spoke. “Wouldn’t want to let such youth and beauty spoil all because of a little mistake, hm?” she leaned picked up a loose strand of hair and without any warning, severed it with a gold talon that wrapped around her index finger. Gloria yelped as if wounded, sinking deeper into the couch.

“Oh hush, this’ll all be fixed. Now worry not, I do not sense another life in you, you will bleed on your honeymoon, and Mr. Connor Finnigan will pay for his crimes against the innocent. Now Gloria, I am a very busy woman, I must now insist that you leave so I may get back to fixing this city, one mistake at a time.” Gloria sprung to her feet and followed Gibli out and to the door. When right outside the door, she turned, her hands clasped tightly together, “Thank you Lady Vanderbilt. I am so grateful, I-“ Amelia cut her short, “You shall say no more, instead, you will show me how grateful you are when the time comes and I call on you. You are in my debt, and should you try to back out of this contract, every mistake you have made will come back at you and your family tenfold. Heaven and Hells wrath will plague your family for years to come. Have a wonderful afternoon Gloria.” And with that, Gibli shut the door on Gloria’s saucer like eyes and gaping maw.

Amelia had already begun ascending the stairs when Gibli spoke up. “Milady, do you remember the spirit you invoked unto the butcher?” he asked, halting Amy in her tracks, she glanced over her shoulder. “Is Sir Lawrence complaining again? He gave me very two rotting bat wings and a few bat whiskers. Neither are hard to come by in the black market, so he gets a common ghost.” She began to ramble, obviously having argued with the man one too many times. “If he wants me to invoke dark, clever, lethal spirits unto his rivals, he will have to bring me the ring of dead royalty, rope used to hang an innocent, or even some fresh corneas!”

Gibli cleared his throat, bringing Amelia back into the conversation. “No, Milady, he hasn’t come by after your last dispute.”
“Well I did threaten to give his wife the face of a pig.” She mumbled, nibbling on her lower lip.
“It seems the spirit has already been exercised. It happened this afternoon, by a fresh face from St. Dominic. I didn’t catch his name, but he looked to be pretty inexperienced. I’d say he’s just gotten started in his field of work by how long it took him to exercise the silly spirit.”
“Those damned men keep coming up here from their little raggedy town. I ought to burn the village down…. Did he mention my name? Does he have any suspicions?”
“No. Not that I witnessed.”
“Good.” And with that she continued up the stairs and into another room, slamming the door behind her.

Gibli sighed and made his way to the library before morphing into a cat, an awfully graphic transformation that Amelia has forbidden him to do in front of her. He leapt onto a window sill and then hopped into the garden. He would travel the streets in search of this no name for he feared his mistress would have him skinned if he came back with nothing.

“Let’s have some fun.” She whispered as she assembled items and ingredients onto a table. It only took her a few moments to utter an enchantment on a gold hair pin with gem flowers. “GIBLI!” she called and the door creaked open. “Drop this in this on Mrs. Lemmingworths doorstep--put it in a pretty box first. Then return home. I’ll need you to keep an eye out on whichever priests they send to to spoil my fun at the ball tonight.” It had come to her attention that whenever she attended any gatherings, the city folk made it clear that they were aware of her presence with the invitation of priests and fathers. It was a slap on the wrist, nothing she couldn’t handle with class and grace.

Gibli took the enchanted pin and made his way to the library before morphing into a cat, an awfully graphic transformation that Amelia has forbidden him to do in front of her. He leapt onto a window sill and then hopped into the garden. It wouldn’t be until later that night that the ruckus and fun would start, and she was sure

Harold arrived back at the order with no further incident. He stabled Buttercup and walked inside. He was feeling pretty good about himself. While it wasn't a difficult first assignment, he had conquered it. The feeling gave him confidence that he could take on any supernatural mystery that lay before him. He knocked on brother Dominic's door. He heard brother Dominic call him in. Harold opened the door, walked into the office, and slowly closed the door behind him. Brother Dominic sat at a huge oak desk that was piled high with books and a random assortment of trinkets.

"One moment Harold." Brother Dominic said as he stood up slowly, face still buried in a book. Harold unstrapped his cross and set it against the wall. It made a soft "THUNK" that drew brother Dominic's attention away from the book finally. As he set the book down he shook his head at Harold. "I understand you need to store your equipment, but that infernal thing makes you stand out to every supernatural being within eyesight." Harold shrugged. "I'm sorry that I carry my faith with me wherever I go." Harold shot back. Brother Dominic smiled as he shook his head. "Always have an answer for everything. So, how did the haunting go?" Brother Dominic asked walking to the front of his desk and leaning against it for support.

Harold began to beam proudly. "I took care of that specter, no problem." Brother Dominic raised an eyebrow questioningly. While Harold was a great student, brother Dominic didn't believe for one second that Harold had handled the situation completely. "Okay, maybe there was a slight hitch or two." Harold said, putting up his hands. He could still smell the cut of chicken that had hit him in the face. "But, I brought it back." He said excitedly as he opened the cross trunk. "Brought what back?" Brother Dominic said, slowly backing up.

Harold produced the piece of ham to brother Dominic. "It's the specter." Harold grinned, holding the ham towards brother Dominic. Brother Dominic peered at the piece of ham and poked it slightly. The ham twisted to and fro on its own. "Why is it in a ham Harold?" Brother Dominic said, highly confused. Harold shrugged slightly as he set the ham down on the desk. Brother Dominic smiled despite himself. "I guess that's one way to handle it. I'll put it down in the basement for further studies." Brother Dominic leaned back on the desk once again and poked the piece of ham away from himself.

Brother Dominic cleared his throat as his smiled faded away. "I have a very special assignment for you Harold. There is a ball in town tonight. It is held every year and there always seems to be some supernatural activities afoot. I need you to go down there, attend the ball, and just observe the happenings." Brother Dominic pointed a finger right at Harold. "Just observe Harold. Do not try and interfere. Normally, I would not send one as inexperienced as you, but, honestly, you're the only one here." Harold gave brother Dominic a small thumbs up. "I won't let you down." Harold said enthusiastically as he grabbed his cross and opened the door. "Harold?" Brother Dominic called before Harold could leave. Harold turned around, halfway out the door. "Since you are only observing, you can't take that, thing with you." Brother Dominic said, waving his hand towards the large cross on Harold's back. Harold nodded silently as he closed the door behind him.

Back in his room, Harold tried to figure out what he could take with him. Just in case things got out of hand. He grabbed his small silver spoon and the vial of salt. He kept looking through his cross. He had a small two shot pistol that he could hide easily. He loaded it with two silver bullets. He kept his goggles outfitted with the ectoplasm lenses. The only other thing he could think of to bring was a small cross shaped stake. He had developed a small propulsion device that attached to his forearm. It was capable of holding small objects and, with a push of a button that was on his wrist, could send the object flying into his hand. He attached the stake to this device. To top it all off, he sprinkled himself with holy water. With that, he was off.

Outside, pinned onto his door was the address of the ball and a small black harlequin mask. In big letters on the back of the mask was written: "Observe only!" Harold smiled. Still feeling good he knew that he could handle whatever was to come at this party. Plus, he thought as he walked to the stables, what supernatural being would show up with a group of people around? He reached the stables and untied Buttercup. "Back at it again girl." He said, patting her on the flank. They took off at the full run towards the city. The ball would be starting soon and he should arrive just in time.

They reached the city and slowed into a trot. Soon he arrived at a very large elegant building. It seemed so out of place among the squalid buildings that existed on the very edge of the city. As he approached a boy ran up to him and grabbed Buttercup's reigns. "Stable your horse?" He said grinning and holding out his hands. Harold patted his sides. "I'm afraid I have nothing to give you kind little sir." Harold said sadly. "Then bugger off then!" The boy spat back, letting go of Buttercup. Harold dismounted and stabled her himself. He walked back to the entrance of the building and put his mask on. The words "Observe only" flashing briefly. Harold walked in the door and marveled at the size and grandeur of the building. He looked over the sea of people. All of them dressed so well, and he was dressed, like himself. He was going to stick out. A wave of nervousness swept over him as he walked further into the building.

Preparing for the ball had been easy, a simple spell was casted and she was dressed in a very old fashioned ball gown. “A classic.” She grinned, staring at herself in the mirror. Her brown hair had been pinned up into a loose bun so locks of hair fell about her face and neck. Her crimson gown had a neckline that scooped and revealed a generous amount of décolletage, more cleavage than a proper Christian would agree to. The real show stopper hung around her neck and had more sparkle than all the stars in the sky. Diamonds dripped down her neck and into the crevice between her heaving breasts.

“Need’s more.” She breathed, lightly drawing her fingertips across her cheekbones, temple, and around her eyes in small swirls and lines, black ash followed her movements until she had her mask set. Amelia licked her lips, and they turned a dark red that matched her dress. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, darkening her lashes then ran her hands over her hair as if to catch any fly always, and it turned ink black under her touch. “They want a witch, they’ll get a witch.” She smirked and picked up her gloves.

When she stepped outside, her carriage was already waiting. Gibli opened the gate for her, then the carriage door, bowing as she entered and settled herself within it. With a shot crack of the reigns, the two large looming mares began at a steady pace and in a matter of minutes they had arrived at the estate. She gave herself time so that plenty people would have the honor of witnessing her entrance. The gathered coachmen and stable boys gawked at the large menacing mounts. Amelia laughed softly to herself; if only they knew that her horses were that of the apocalypse.

Gibli handed her out of the carriage, and this time, Amelia carried an item under her arm. “Have the stable boys keep watch of my carriage, you will stay as a feline and roam the halls discreetly You will also take this.” She pressed a doll to his chest until he tucked it under his own arm. “Give it to a child, I don’t care who.” she stared him dead in the eyes, making sure he knew his orders. He nodded quickly and set off to accomplish his tasks.

Her grand entrance was amusing, to say the least. She had managed to startle the Harold. “Good evening.” Amelia said cooly, staring down at the guests at the foot of the stairs and swaying around the dance floor. They all mingled and laughed in their little groups, gossiping about who knows what. The Harold turned his head and visibly jumped to his toes. His face reddened and he cleared his throat and without her having to identify himself, he made the announcement. “Lady Amelia Vanderbilt!” The room fell silent and the music died off in the distance. You could say she had the crowd bewitched. Having pale skin really paid off when it came to vibrant colors. She slowly descended the stairs, keeping a knowing smile in place. “Oh my, have I interrupted something?” she asked as she approached the host and wife of the party. They sat up in their plush chairs, handing their drinks to their faithful butler. “Lady V-Vanderbilt-“ the man choked over his words, his eyes continuously drawn down to her chest. The wife had no problem staring, though and only blushed when she met Amelia’s eyes. Mrs. Lemmingworth rolled her eyes and looked at her husband, revealing the pin nestled prettily in her hair. “He’s had a few drinks. What he’s trying to say is that we hope you have a splendid time here.” She said stiffly and picked at invisible threads on his overcoat. Amelia curtsied deeply “Of course, you have always hosted the most impressive balls in London.” The room hummed with whispers behind her, as she righted herself and plucked a drink from the tray of still caterer, sauntering into a new group. The music began again and the voice level rose considerably. Amelia chanced one last glance at Mrs. Lemmingworth and her hair pin before smiling into her fluke and downing the rest of it in a large gulp.

As his mistress had commanded, Gibli had ordered one of the stable boys to care for the carriage in his absence and all it took him was a raggedy doll and a few coins. The rest of the night he would watch over the crowd from the foggy windows and make sure Lady Vanderbilt’s plans went according to plan.

“I wonder what spectacles Annie has set up for tonight?” Carol giggled into her 3rd glass, sipping from it once more before setting it on the side table. Gloria and Amelia sat in one of the many open lobbies, on a very plush gray couch imported from some exotic country. “Anne Lemmingworth would never fail her guests.” And as if on cue, the main ballroom grew louder with shouts and cries of astonishment.

Gloria gasped and shot to her feet, fleeing to the ballroom to see what all the commission was about. Amelia smoothed her hands over her gown, and with the serenity of a lake, she rose to her feet and followed the shrieks and cries that erupted from the next room.

Gloria was not disappointed, although, maybe she was a little frightened. Poor Annie popped up above the crowd then fell, less than gracefully, back into the crowd. Upon closer inspection, you could see that she was moving in a very unnatural way. Her arms flailed about, uncontrolled and her legs dangled limply beneath her.
“She’s levitating!”
“By Gods!”
“Someone help her!”
“She’s cursed!”
The people cried simultaneously, but Amelia remained silent, watching as Annie rose above them, hovering over their heads, even knocking a few heads with her heels until they fell off into the crowd. Annie was still very much aware of what was happening, in fact, she was the loudest screamer in the room. She wailed and shrieked for help as she whirled around the room. Obviously everything but her ego was unharmed, but the woman continued to release blood curdling screams. Amelia gigged into her hand and shook her head. “Well done Gibli.” She sighed under her breath.

Although so many eyes were on their hostess, no one seemed to notice the shimmer, glowing, golden hairpin in poor Mrs. Lemmingworths hair.

Harold walked into the main room and did his best to blend in. As he walked through the crowd he began to get many odd stares. He began to sweat nervously as he waited to get called out. To his surprise a few people came up to him and shook his hand. "Such a wonderfully droll costume." Said a few people. "I should have come dressed as the lower class. Brilliant!" Said others. Harold forced a smile as he shook hands and pried himself away from the crowd. Harold managed to find a small hallway that connected the main room to the kitchen and plopped down in a chair.

He was able to see most of the room and people from where he sat. He pulled his goggles over his eyes and did a quick glance. He didn't see anything usual. He put them back on his hat. "Wine sir?" A man appeared besides him suddenly. Harold jumped slightly as he eyed the man. He held his chest and laughed slightly seeing it was a server. "No, thank you. I liked to keep my facilities in, new surroundings." Harold waved his hand at the tray of wine. "Understood sir." The server said walking away. Harold took another look around the building. There was a stairwell that led up to a second floor balcony that overlooked the entire room. Harold thought momentarily about moving up there, but there were already some people mingling up there. He would make his way up there later on.

Suddenly a hush fell over the room. Harold walked from the hallway to the edge of the room and get a better view of what was going on. He heard a loud announcement: "Lady Amelia Vanderbilt!" Harold stared, open-mouthed at the lady that was being announced. He had to take his mask off the get a better view. She was a vision of radiance and she knew it. Harold regained his composure and put his mask back on. He dismissed her as another socialite who craved attention. He used this moment of distraction to make his way up the staircase without being noticed.

As he walked up the staircase to the second story balcony, he watched as the people seemed to gravitate to her. Harold shrugged to himself. He had never been to a ball before, so he assumed this was just normal behavior. He reached the upper balcony and leaned against the railing. He pulled his goggles back down and gave the room a once over. At first, nothing stood out, but as his gaze landed upon Lady Vanderbilt, a slight glow surrounded her. He kept looking and it began to slowly fade away. He took and wiped the goggles with his sleeve and looked again. This time, nothing abnormal shone anywhere. "How odd." Harold thought. His goggles never gave a false positive reading before. Then again, all this light reflecting off all this shiny jewelery. Before he could think further, a scream grabbed his attention.

He quickly scanned the room and saw a small circle forming around a woman. Harold watched as the woman started levitating right before his eyes. Harold was secretly relieved. He dreaded having to stay through this whole ball with nothing happening. Harold quickly descended the stairs towards the edge of where all the people were watching the woman levitate. He watched as the woman slowly floated upwards. Then slightly to the left. Then slightly to the right. He looked around to see if someone could have been casting a spell on her. While everyone was looking at her, no one was mouthing any words or making any hand gestures.

Harold pulled down his goggles and eyed the floating woman. At first, he saw nothing, but as his eyes scanned her he noticed something. There was a slight glow of something on her head. Harold acted quickly. He knew he was just supposed to observe, but he couldn't let someone possibly get hurt. He jumped up and grabbed the woman's feet. She slowly descended as Harold climbed up her. She began yelling at him and flagging her arms about. Suddenly, they started ascending again. Harold's face was next to hers as she looked at him terrified. "Be just one second ma'am." Harold grinned reaching for her hair. He felt around for a second until his finger pricked on something.

He pulled back his hand instinctively. He then took and reached back carefully where his hand had just been. He felt a small metal object and pulled it free from her hair. The second the object was no longer in her hair, they fell to the ground with a thud. People began to gather around them both. As Harold stood up, he tried to push his way though the crowd. At first, everyone was fussing around him, asking him all manner or questions. Luckily for Harold, once the lady he had just helped slowly came to, everyone flocked to her. Harold did his best to disappear out the front door.

Once outside Harold took off his mask and put his goggles on to examine what he had just pulled out of the woman's hair. It glowed softly for a few seconds, until returning to normal. It looked just like a normal hair pin to Harold, but he would take it back to the order to be examined. He pocketed the object and looked at his finger that had been pricked by the hair pin. The bleeding was slowing as he put his fingertip in his mouth. He let his hands fall to his sides as he leaned up against the outside of the building. Trying to figure out if he should head home or back into the party. He had made enough of a scene that people would probably not let him be if he went back in there.

The night had been going so well, she had caught up on the latest gossip and Gloria didn’t talk too much, then the entertainment started. “I’ll have a splendid night indeed, Annie.” She grinned to herself, watching the woman flail about as if a child were handling her like a play thing.”

Right as the surprise started to die down and awareness began to arise, the help made an appearance. This time, she laughed aloud, up into the gilded ceiling. It drew the attention of some of the people that stood closely around her, and she didn’t bother to explain her amusement. Some probably suspected, anyways.

It wasn’t long before the two fell, little Annie had been knocked unconscious upon impact.
“Not dead.” she stated simply, getting a short glimpse of the paper white woman. Amelia whispered a few words under her breath and her eye color changed to a smoky white and moved like a rolling fog. “Maybe incense will help.” she breathed into a passerby’s ear. The person halted for but a moment, as if struck by an idea and raised their voice. “Maybe incense will help!” they blurted out and kept on moving.

Gibli appeared behind her, watching the scene unfurl before them. Someone had smelling salts and wafted them into her face. Mrs. Lemmingworth regained consciousness and was propped up into someone’s lap, the color that had drained from her cheeks earlier slowly made an appearance.

“Madam?” Gibli cleared his throat. Amelia turned her head slightly, keeping her eyes on the disarrayed woman. “Yes, little kitty?” she asked softly, finally resting her eyes on his calm expression. “The one who pulled the pin is currently outside.” Amelia rolled her eyes and shook her head. “How do you know he is still here if you aren’t out watching him?” she muttered. “I can smell his blood through these awful perfumes these women have doused themselves in.” he grumbled, glancing around. “--but it is fading…” Amelia nodded and began to move again, assuredly and quickly towards the exit.

Just before reaching the exit, when she was sure no one was observing her, Amelia rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times until they began to water, she even let a few tears streak her cheeks. With quick small steps, she imitated the movement of a frantic ninny, running out into the cool night air, sobs racking her chest.

“Oh good God!” she whimpered, holding a hand over the front of her corset then hysterically waving her hand in front of her face. She turned her head slightly, her teary eyes falling onto the man of the hour. “Oh! I didn’t see you there.” She huffed and cleared her throat as if to gain composure once more, she stood a little straighter and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes flashed recognition and she gasped in surprise. “Oh! You’re the man who helped poor Lady Vanderbilt!” she exclaimed and quickly made a deep curtsy. In that moment she stared at him through her lashes, committing his face to memory. “Y-you’re a hero, sir!” she continued, righting herself once more.

“Lady surely would have been badly injured if you hadn’t stepped in in time to save her! If there is anything I could do for you,” she leaned over slightly, smoothing her hands over her gown as if she were smoothing out wrinkles with her palms, the scoop of her gown made it’s obvious appearance, “anything.” she repeated slowly, “Let me know… you have done the work of God.” She finally finished, batting her lashes, her large blue eyes resembling that of a doe.

Harold leaned his head against the wall. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He decided that he should probably just stick around outside the ball for a little while. He would search the grounds and the outside of the building. Hopefully find some clues as to what had just happened. As he had just made up his mind, a woman came running out of the ball, obviously distressed. "Ma'am?" Harold said softly. She stopped in front of him and waved her hand in front of her face. She looked up at him and she seemed to realize who he was. She called him a hero and Harold couldn't stop a grin. She then fixed her gown which allowed him a full view down the low scoop. She offered a general "Anything I can do for you" response to someone that helped you out. Before he could say anything, she suggestively repeated "anything".

Harold went from a slight grin to grinning like an idiot as his mind raced. "It was really nothing." He said as he attempted to put his arm out and lean against the wall. He wasn't paying attention, as his eyes were glued onto her, and he missed the wall and fell back slightly. He caught his balance and dusted himself off. "It really was no big deal. I did what anyone would have done." His eyes locked on hers and he suddenly lost himself. He snapped back into reality and tried to recover. "Wait, you are Lady...Lady." He struggled to bring his mind under control. "Vanderbilt." He finally finished his thought.

His ego was already swelling being fawned over by a beautiful woman, but being fawned over by a woman adored by a room full of high society types, that sent his ego soaring. "I do not know so much if that was God's work ma'am, but it was something." Something in the back of his mind was gnawing away at him. He couldn't place it. Whether it was because he felt he recognized her from somewhere else. Maybe it was because she seemed dangerous for some reason. He figured it was because he had never been really been flirted with and he didn't know how to respond.

The gnawing in the back of his mind changed to wondering about what he had just witnessed. "Actually, there is something you can do for me ma'am." He thought for a moment about how much he should reveal about who he was and what he knew. Still being naive, he didn't think this to protect himself, but, rather, not influence her answers. "Did you see anything unusual happen right before that young woman...lifted off the ground? Did anyone give her anything? Just anything you might have noticed would be a great help. I am not with the law or anything, just a confused and concerned citizen."

To her amusement he had easily fallen for her charm, although she could feel the ties of bewitchment, something plucked at them. Something fought her hold over his mind and that was interesting al on its own. She wondered if she could plant something on him, some sort of item enchanted to spy, or maybe a spell? She racked her brain for any ideas and one certainly came to mind. She smiled to herself and nodded, pulling a handkerchief from her décolletage.

“Oh, no I didn’t see anyone but perhaps someone spiked one of her glasses? Rumor is, she tortures and torments her servants mercilessly. In the past several weeks, she has had three seek serious medical attention, and one died. I would suspect that would make her a target to the working class.” As she finished, she dabbed the handkerchief onto her tongue then, in a very bold and forward move, cleaned a spot of dried blood just below his lip. “You had a little something.” She laughed softly and folded the piece of cloth, clutching it in her hand.

“Well, sir. It has been a very long night and I have important matters to attend to before I seek the comfort of sleep.” Gibli appeared from the shadows, strolling behind Amelia, a cold blank expression on his young face. “If you will excuse me—have a peaceful night, sir.” Gibli helped her into her coat before leading the way to the carriage.

“What do you think?” he asked quietly as they walked along the moonlit cobblestones. “He plays as a simple boy, but I feel like there is more to him than he is letting on.” She muttered, a sly smile widening her lips.
“Madam?” He questioned her smile and Amelia laughed, shaking her head. “I sense a storm brewing, Gibli.” She sighed happily and stepped up into her carriage, glancing back as Gibli started closing the hatch. She whipped her hand out, stopping the door from closing, staring directly a the boy with a doll in his hands, flinging it about. “What a pretty little thing that is, may I have it?” the boy looked up at her, his mouth falling agape and without much thought, he reached the doll out, placing it in her palm. “Thank you, darling.” She cooed and Gibli shut the door, walking around the stricken boy and to his seat. He cracked the whips on the terrifying beasts that played horse and they made their way back home.

“Meet me in the attic.” She called to Gibli as she raced up the steps and into her home. Amelia unclipped, unzipped, unbuttoned, and untied until she was completely dressed down. She kept the handkerchief tightly clutched in a fist. Gibli would pick up the trail of clothes on his way to the attic.

If one were looking for it, one could see a faint line in the ceiling, and if one was educated in the art of hidden doors, one would twist the knob on the nearest door counter clockwise. Amelia did just that and in the dead silence, a soft click could be heard. The hatch popped just a little bit, a string falling out from its tight spot. Amelia eased down the door and ladder and then hastily climbed up.

You would expect it to be cold and smell of dust, but instead, it was a cozy room that smelled of lavender. Ili wasn’t too far behind, and having known his mistress for so long, he had brought a night robe with him.
“Oh Gibli, I believe I have finally found my way in. I might have eyes in St Dominic.” She laughed in disbelief, gathering bottles and bowls of ingredients. Gibli watched her move about the room with a real sense of purpose and familiarity. Books staked across many tables, most spoke of history and witchcraft.

Sometime in her rush around the room, Amelia had plucked the robe from his hands and donned it. “I know just the spell, too.” Her hand flung out, fingers all pointing in one general direction. Books shuffled and moved, dust appeared in a cloud over the table. A book lifted into the air then flew towards her, landing in her working space, then flipping to a page that read “Fly on the Wall”.

“I’ll cast a spell on a fly, tying it to this blood. It’ll follow London’s little hero around, gathering information for me.” She explained as she flicked the little specks of dried blood from the handkerchief and into a bowl with other ingredients. She lit a few candles, recited the spell and from a small mason jar, she picked out a dead fly, dropping it into the frothing bowl.

In a poof, the fly buzzed out of the bowl and hesitated, then flew off to his new assignment.

He listened as she told him how there had been report of servant abuse. Harold hadn't detected any of that when he was in there, but it was worth looking into. Before she took leave of him she pulled out a handkerchief. He watched, mesmerized, as she dabbed the cloth on her tongue. She leaned in close and he felt his his heart quicken. She softly dabbed a spot of dried blood underneath his lower lip. She then turned and got into her carriage. He watched, still slightly dazed as it went off into the distance. He shook his head clear of the fog as he touched the spot where she dabbed her handkerchief.

He went around the side of the building where the kitchen exited at. He saw a few of the servants milling around outside. He went and talked to a few of them. None of whom said anything about mistreatment. They complained about low wages and being looked down on, but noting of physical harm. So why would Lady Vanderbilt lie to him? A woman of such affluence, why would she be involved in such a thing as simple levitation? For now that would have to remain an unanswered question. He walked back to the stables to retrieve Buttercup.

The ride back to the order left Harold full of more and more questions. Hopefully brother Dominic would know what to do. He reached the order and stabled Buttercup. He strode into the monastery and entered brother Dominic's office. Brother Dominic looked up from his books. "You look a little worse for wear." Harold flopped down into the chair. "There was a incident at the ball." Harold said nervously. Brother Dominic glared at him. Harold sighed loudly and told brother Dominic everything that had happened. He then pulled the hair pin that he had retrieved from the levitating girl.

Brother Dominic stood up and took the object from Harold's hand. He eyed it suspiciously. "Looks like an ordinary ladies hairpin. It must have been enchanted and when you removed it, you removed the enchantment." Harold stood up and starting pacing the floor. "That is what I thought as well, but then why would Lady Vanderbilt tell me it was probably a spiked drink?" Harold said, thinking out loud. Brother Dominic stood in front of Harold and asked him to repeat the name he just said. Harold repeated the name of Lady Vanderbilt. Brother Dominic slowly walked back behind his desk and sat down. "Harold." Brother Dominic started. 'We have been receiving many accusations that she dabbles in black magic. So far, accusations are all we have, but please be careful around her. She is not to be trusted. Whatever you do, do not go near her." Harold nodded slowly. "So, what should I do now?" Brother Dominic picked up his book. "Honestly Harold. I would sleep on it."

Harold rose and went back to his room. It had been a long night and he needed some sleep. He undressed and crept into bed. His head was swimming with ideas and questions. He would go to town and find out all he could about this Lady Vanderbilt. His eyes grew heavy as his mind still raced. He soon fell to sleep. As he slept, he had dreams about the day. Harold's mind was his greatest gift. As he slept it played back every detail he may have missed. Subtle clues he may have overlooked. Although moving the information from his subconscious to his consciousness wasn't something he had mastered yet.

The morning was incredibly slow, seeing as she slept most of it away. Amelia sat up from her plush pillows, rubbing her hands over her hot face. “Gibli!” she groaned, kicking her blankets off of her. Her dark locks plastered to her forehead and the skin along her neck and back, slick with sweat. She whimpered and fell onto her side, very naked and vulnerable.

Gibli entered the room, already dressed and ready for the day, his cool expression quickly turned to that of concern when he witnessed the state of his mistress. “The cabinet...” She growled, pressing her palms to her stomach, clenching and unclenching her hands at her abdomen.

Gibli nodded and walked to the other side of the room, opening the cabin he rummaged through it. As is back was turned, Amelia threw herself to the edge of the bed and began heaving until a mass of hair passed her lips and fell to the floor. She sneered, drained of color and sickly; she got to her feet and stumbled to the cabinet, knocking bottles around in search for the cure.

“It-it isn’t here, madam.” He said softly.
“N-no. It has to be. It has to be.” She whimpered, gripping the cabinet hard enough to crack the wood. She gasped and bent over once more, heaving and gagging until another hair ball hit the floorboards. “Those wretched beasts.” She growled, whipping spit from her chin, she carried herself to her bed, slumping into it and curling up. “Gather the sisters here. I need their help.” She rasped, preparing for the next ball of hair to push its way out of her.

Gibli rushed out of the room to gather the women. It was rather easy to get a hold of them seeing as it only took a letter and a simple incantation before offering the piece of paper to the flames. It only took about fifteen minutes for a woman to appear on their doorstep.

Gibli recognized her from previous gatherings at his home. He bowed and took her coat as she entered. He didn’t need to escort the elderly woman; she knew where her withering sister lay.

Sister Gwennith slowly opened the room, wrinkling her nose when a wall of sickly scent hit her. “Goodness, Amelia. What have they done to you?” she sighed, removing her gloves and sitting herself at Amelia’s bedside.

Amelia, looking as white as paper, sweat glistening from her skin, still had it in her to roll her eyes and turn her head to face the woman. “A nasty trick. Must have been the drinks from the other night.” She muttered through dry lips, cringing and bowing her head as another hair ball fell onto the floor. It was then that she began to tremble and shake uncontrollably.

Gwen grimaced, averting her eyes. “Alrght. Enough of this.” She muttered. “I know what you need. This is a petty trick. Much like the one you pulled last night.” She tutted as she walked to the Vanity. Gwen produced a few tubes and jars from her bag and got to work.

“Where are the others?” Amelia asked softly, rolling onto her side. The sound of the grinding mealing stone was comforting and reminded her of her childhood. “Sister Liza is also plagued by a nasty spell so Sister Nora is at her aid.” Gwen replied, dripping lavender oil into the powder mixture she concocted. She brought the mealing bowl to Amelia, sitting herself onto the soiled sheets. “Part your lips, dear.” She whispered. Amelia, as if in a daze, looked up blankly at Gwen, her lips parting slightly, as if staring at a ghost. Gwen drained the potion into Amelias waiting mouth, and Amelia mindlessly swallowed.

Gibli cleared his throat to remind Gwen that he was still available to her if she needed him. “Why haven’t you gotten her any clothes? It surely isn’t decent for a subservient being like yourself to see her so bare she muttered, tucking Amelia in. The girl seemed to gain some color in her flesh, and her trembling had stopped.

“She prefers to remain nude in her domain, Madam.” He replied whilst bowing his head. Gwen chuckled, shaking her head. “Truly a child of earth.” She breathed and kissed Amelia’s forehead, then replaced her gloves. “She should be able to make her way about the house in an hour. Bring us some tea.” She ordered and got up, walking to a desk in the corner of the room.

Hours later, Amelia draped herself in one of the plush couches in her waiting area, clad in her flimsy robe and looking as pissed as ever. All of her sisters had arrived and made themselves at home in her lobby, looking through drawers, books, and art.

“They have to be stopped.” Amelia said through clenched teeth before popping a grape into her mouth.

“They know we’re getting close to expelling them from London. They don’t want to move out? They think they can outdo us?! We are the eldest coven of old magic here. We want the peace and they mean to tear it down! This is our city and they will not run us out of it.” Nora huffed, her pudgy cheeks reddening. She sat herself into one of the arm chairs, crossing her arms to hold in her outrage.

Gwen sighed and shut the book she was reading, replacing it back onto the shelf. “Calm yourself, Sister Nora. Your hot head will only get us in trouble. Take Amelia for example.” She made a pointed expression that Amelia vehemently ignored.

“After her little show last night, I’m sure they will have bigger plans in retaliation.” She sighed, drawing her eyes to the crystal ball that sat on the mantle over the fire place.

Liza, in all of her quiet and timid demeanor finally piped up. “Maybe you should also tell them about the Brotherhood at St. Dominic.”

Amelia turned her steely gaze to the petite figure that sat by her feet on the couch, attentively looking in the opposite direction. “Ah yes, that is nothing new. They had sent a rookie so, all went better than expected.” She said coolly and jabbed her foot into Liza’s hip, sending her awkwardly the couch, landing on her knees.

“Amelia!” Gwen snapped. Amelia rolled her eyes and sat up, righting herself. “Muscle spasm.” She mumbled and continued to eat her grapes. “It’s time we started planning a real attack on them. The fact that only Amelia is called a witch is a little ridiculous.” Nora spat, rubbing her gloved hands over the crystal ball. “It’s only a matter of time before someone tries something stupid. I say we blame the other witches, wipe Amelia’s name clean and have them either burned or running for the hills.”
“I second that!” Amelia chirped around a full mouth.

Gwen rolled her eyes and checked the grandfather clock that silently clicked by the entrance to the room. “Let us go. The night draws near and I have no intention of staying for supper. Also, I expect to see you all at the full moon ritual tonight. We have work to do, ladies.”

“Lady Lorain’s coven will be there as well.” Liza whispered, her eyes fogging over, as if mist were moving across them. “They will make a threat.” She continued and ran her hands over her face, her eyes clearing just as quickly as they fogged. “Then we will be ready.” Gwen said, her words dark and foreboding. With that, one by one, they filed out of the room and out of her life.

Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned. “This is absolutely ridiculous. I hope those beastly witches move to the colonies—way across the waters.”