Avalonne-du-Prix, Britannia, 2041. An island in the Channel, not too distant from the Straits of Dover, which has ironically resumed its ancient purpose of providing protection from the mainland empire of the New Roman Union. In millennia past, the castle on the hill housed many cannons and long-range mortars to deter Vikings, Normans, and whomever else was unlucky enough to consider invading the island nation; now, the castle houses the main campus of the Royal Academy of Magick, which in principle is a collection of experienced professors and their studios pupils, but has become a far grander institution of the Kingdom of Britannia in the last few decades. It is, without exaggeration, the lynchpin of Britannian magical society—which is to say, Britannian society as a whole, due to the vital role of magic in their national security.
Yet, despite Britannia's near-monopoly over magic, the once-great kingdom had done remarkably little in recent decades to conserve that monopoly.
Or perhaps the issue was not a lack of conservation, but rather too much conservation of power?
It had early been discovered that magical ability is hereditary, and Britannia had a long history with hereditary systems of power, and thus they had initially treated it as just another expression of their post-feudal politics. Eight Houses had emerged as pinnacles of magic power, and had sworn allegiance to the ninth House, the House of Pendragon, all while seeking their own power and glory within the Kingdom. The House di Cadenza was one of these and were a close ally of the royal family—in fact, Duchess Annalise di Cadenza was one of the few people that King Uther Pendragon V trusted implicitly.
Then, of course, there was the tenth House, which ostensibly had little magical prowess yet whose influence dwarfed that of every other house combined: the House of Moriarty.
Their origins were unknown but were believed to have arisen out of one of the first organized crime syndicates which then went global. No longer able to hide entirely in the shadows, they had found a novel way of protecting themselves: a clever combination of transparency and secrecy.
Operatives of the House of Moriarty were some of the best-trained forces in the areas of espionage, spycraft, assassination, as well as many less-prominent areas of illicit activity: fraud, extortion, embezzlement, and the like. Their people were impossible to find, yet nearly omnipresent throughout the Kingdom and the mainland. Their reputation was one to be feared, yet their position also commanded (begrudging) respect.
In a world where hereditary magic is the sole source of political capital, the institution responsible for teaching magic becomes the battlefield on which the future of the nation is decided.
In a world controlled by one family in public and another in secret, the two primordial forces will converge upon one another and are destined to do battle.
In a world where the King's right hand had an heiress attending the Academy, it was her responsibility to temper the greed of the ten Blessed Houses with etiquette, with the standards of high society, and with the rule of law.
Although, thought Jessamine di Cadenza, these children seem to be doing their utmost to try my patience. Maybe I should wipe the slate clean and begin the kingdom anew.
In the four years since the Battle of Dover, where a mysterious woman calling herself the Domino Witch had singlehandedly obliterated the New Roman Union's invasion fleet and bought Britannia a few years of tentative peace before vanishing, Jessamine had exchanged her sword for a pen upon entering the arena of politics.
It had been an unwelcome albeit necessary change. Everyone—quite literally, everyone—had immediately suspected Jessamine to be the Domino Witch, as she had expected of them, and her desire to avoid the limelight had left her with only one option: to create within herself a handicap which would bar any such suspicion from raising its head.
It was post-traumatic stress, her therapists had concluded, which was responsible for robbing Jessamine of her ability to use magic. It was a psychosomatic change brought about by having seen such a gruesome battlefield at such a young age, and by having almost died herself. She had been saved by the Domino Witch, but the damage done to her psyche could only heal over time.
This narrative had been constructed by Jessamine herself, who had found it surprisingly easy to convince the world that her magic was impotent.
As it turned out, Domino had been telling the truth. Her own understanding of magic had expanded exponentially upon her transformation, and she could only imagine how powerful Domino itself must be if her current existence mirrored only a fraction of its godhood.
Immediately after the battle of Dover, Jessamine created a glamour to hide the obviously-synthetic body she now possessed, and in a similar way she hid herself from every magical examination conducted by the state.
When she said that she could no longer use magic, she allowed them to see that her capability was the same as it had been before the battle; she also allowed them to think that post-traumatic stress was the culprit.
But what is the use of a magician who can no longer cast magic?
Since childhood, her mother—director of Military Intelligence section 7—had trained her in the arts of war and of espionage, and the King had relied upon a future in which Jessamine succeeded her mother's role. There was even talk of Jessamine being a future princess consort, however unrealistic it might be.
Those plans underwent a forced reevaluation due to Jessamine's situation.
It was eventually decided to let her continue along that path in the hopes that time would truly heal the wounds that magic couldn't touch, which is how she found herself in her second year of graduate studies at the Royal Academy of Magic, though that, too, was secondary to her purpose there.
The House of Pendragon had entrusted her with the position of Vice Chairwoman of the Royal Society of Magic, a campus organization which served as the physical embodiment of the royal family's authority over the Kingdom. Every familial leader of the ten Blessed Houses had been a member, and the alumni events were neutral ground, mostly free from politicking and posturing.
The current chairman was Henry Cahill, a third-year graduate student and the Duke of the House of Cahill, a staunch ally to the House of Pendragon and the House di Cadenza. But the role was nevertheless symbolic, as the true power lay in the hands of his deputy—Jessamine.
Oftentimes the responsibilities of the Vice Chairwoman were administrative tasks to which she was well-suited.
This was not one of those times.
"Ms. Cadenza, truly, I'm flattered," said the brunette as she disembarked the helicopter which, having delivered her and her entourage to Avalonne-du-Prix, now arose and left the women alone at the airstrip. "I wasn't expecting someone of your position to be acting as my receptionist."
Jessamine made no attempt to hide the hatred in her eyes.
"Welcome to Avalonne-du-Prix, Ms. Moriarty," she uttered icily, partnered with an equally-menacing curtsey. "Forgive me for the lack of pomp and circumstance, but you must understand that such pageantry is reserved for the noblest of the Blessed Houses and a country house like Moriarty doesn't command enough prestige. I'm afraid you'll have to make yourself content with my personal reception."
Her rebuke was met with stifled laughter from the girls accompanying Ms. Elisabeth Moriarty, heiress of Richard Moriarty, exalted enemy of the state. They were not her friends; neither Elisabeth nor Jessamine had any true friends, and it was more accurate to describe them as Elisabeth's sycophants. They both feared her power and desired her boon.
"You know, I heard she can't use magic anymore," one whispered loudly. "Maybe you should teach her a lesson, Elsie."
This not-so-subtle barb was met by a chorus of agreement.
"Good idea!"
"Yeah, teach her some manners!"
"It never hurts to show off, right?!"
Elisabeth Moriarty quietly hushed her group and stepped forward to address Jessamine personally, clasping her host's hands tightly and smiling venomously.
"Oh, darling, you don't have to worry about me," she said. "I've never been one for formality or prestige. I prefer to handle things… with a more personal touch."
Jessamine smiled politely and withdrew her hands, folding them resolutely.
"It seems I may have to educate you on the rules of court," she replied. "As well as you may handle your own business, the court will eat you alive if you don't know what you're doing. I've seen it many times before. And if that happened to you…"
Jessamine leaned forward to whisper in the younger woman's ear.
"…I'd find myself overcome with ecstasy."
She withdrew, and she could detect a subtle change in Elisabeth's face—resiliency, determination, and perhaps a macabre sense of excitement.
"I hope we can be friends, Ms. Cadenza," said Elisabeth, her voice lower and her tone more straightforward. "I can be a powerful ally, or a dangerous enemy. I'm sure you know what little chance a powerless magician has against me, so choose wisely. If you choose poorly—well, I'll let you feel the consequences of your choice, and then I'll choose for you."
"It's actually Ms. di Cadenza," replied Jessamine, and Elisabeth noticed that the older woman's eyes were now shining with joy and vitriol in tandem, and it worried her. Very few had shown a reaction like that, and those were often the people that caused her the most trouble.
But they were also the most fun to break.
"…and if you want to be friends, we can be friends," she continued. "I'll be your closest friend, closer than a lover. I'll be by your side, day and night, through thick and thin. You'll never have a moment alone, my friend, and you won't have to bother with fools like these—"
Jessamine indicated Elisabeth's entourage with a simple, pointed nod.
"—as long as you have a friend like me. And if you should be so foolish as to do any minute, infinitesimal thing of which I do not approve—"
She narrowed her eyes and dropped all pretense of polite civility.
"—I will take my friend by the hair and I will gouge out her eyes with my own hands. I will feed them to her and laugh as they pop between her teeth like an overripe cherry. I will destroy every surface-level similarity to humanity my friend possesses before I string her up before the entire Academy as a warning to anyone who dares follow in her footsteps. And after the dogs have had their fun with her, I'll put her down, and then I will go about my life as if nothing had happened at all."
Elisabeth stepped back, her eyes alight with a similar fire to that in Jessamine's own.
"And here I wasn't expecting to find anyone relatable at Camelot," she chuckled, referring to the Academy's popular nickname. "Your idea of friendship is so vivid, and so very similar to my own… it's delightfully surprising."
Jessamine was the only one who saw the simple stiletto blade appear in Elisabeth's hand before she used it to swiftly dispatch two of her own entourage with a quick insertion into the neck. Elisabeth then twirled around and performed the same maneuver on the third, and as the fourth was turning to look at the blood flowing readily from her friends in horror, Elisabeth kicked her knees out and grabbed the young woman's hair, pulling her head back forcefully as she clawed at Elisabeth's arm.
"Like this?" asked Elisabeth before using her free hand to do exactly as Jessamine had described.
Blood and water flowed from her victim's mouth when her teeth punctured her eyes, and Elisabeth laughed, forcing her mouth closed and holding the woman's nose shut until she swallowed the defunct organs.
Elisabeth let go at that point, throwing the woman to the ground.
"Did I do it right? There's not enough time for the whole 'destroying-humanity' bit, but I think I hit the important parts."
Jessamine looked at the sniveling, blind sack of meat and shook her head, uttering a tsk-tsk sound in disapproval.
"It appears that I didn't go far enough. But don't worry, Ms. Moriarty, I'll work on it."
Elisabeth smirked as she stood and sauntered over to Jessamine.
"Would you mind taking care of this, then, my dearest friend?" she asked, gently turning Jessamine's face and intimately kissing her cheek, leaving behind a prominent trace of lipstick.
The true meaning of her request didn't escape Jessamine's perception.
She's rising to my challenge and trying to assert her own dominance.
She's daring me to watch her for any mistake that I can use to execute her.
She's trying to show me that there is no line she won't cross, and there's no authority she fears.
Makes sense. She's a Moriarty, after all.
Jessamine wordlessly disengaged herself from Elisabeth and moved to the unfortunate young woman, who was trying to crawl away without knowing which direction might provide an escape.
She knelt and grabbed the crying girl's head directly, not bothering with the hair, and brought the empty face close to her own.
"Please, please," the girl sobbed, "help me, please!"
"Weren't you the one who suggested teaching me a lesson?"
"I'm sorry! Please, I'll serve you for the rest of your life—I'll do absolutely anything you want, just help me!"
"Stick out your tongue."
Though she seemed confused for a moment, the girl quickly did as she was told.
Jessamine grabbed the poor woman's tongue and forcibly extended it to its maximum length over the protests of her victim before using it to wipe away the lipstick from her cheek. She checked herself in a compact to make sure everything was to her satisfaction, and the turned her attention back to the loose end.
"Good girl," she said, grabbing the sides of the young woman's skull. "Let's fix your vision, okay?"
The girl was barely able to mumble "Okay…" before Jessamine twisted her skull, snapping her neck in one fluid movement.
"Now then," she said, rising to her feet, "let's talk plainly, you and I."
"You have my undivided attention," Elisabeth replied. "And let me say, it's rare for someone to enrapture me so. This is going to be a much more… exciting… semester than I had originally imagined."
"I'm glad you're excited, but it's not going to last long. I am going to kill you, Elisabeth Moriarty."
"Promise?" the brunette asked, biting her lip.
"Oh, I promise," Jessamine replied. "You think you're being cute, little girl, but I'm dead serious. The life of privilege that your name has afforded you is drawing to a close, and you will experience Hell before I send you there permanently."
This was not the first time that Elisabeth had been threatened, but it was the first time that a threat shook her to her core.
"So—you must be the Domino Witch," she said, changing tack and dropping the flirtatious persona. "I can't think of any other reason you'd be so confident."
"You're welcome to think so," Jessamine retorted, "but you should know better than to believe tall tales and idle speculation."
"The difference between speculation and conclusion is the presence of facts."
"You, princess of lies, have no facts on which to stand."
"Neither have you, heir apparent of MI7."
"You came to this school, to my territory, thinking I might be the Domino Witch. Are you insane? You question my confidence—I return the question. It seems to me you are powerful enough to withstand an attack from the Witch."
Elisabeth smiled, but Jessamine could see that she was unhappy with this turn of events.
It must be true, then, and she's not supposed to reveal her hand prematurely.
"That's enough for today, Ms. Cadenza," said Elisabeth, and Jessamine suspected that her conclusion was correct.
"di Cadenza."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. di Cadenza. I believe you're supposed to show me around the Academy? I can't believe we let ourselves get so distracted."
It was Jessamine's turn to smile, and Elisabeth was dismayed to read Jessamine's thoughts in her smile—Elisabeth's secret was close to revelation.
"It happens," she replied, before gesturing to the castle in the distance. "Shall we? I'll dispatch a cleanup crew to take care of the bodies."
"With pleasure," Elisabeth said, though her eyes indicated anything but pleasure.
As the two mortal enemies descended upon the Academy, hand in hand, Jessamine quietly removed the four corpses from existence using the same magic by which she had defeated the New Roman Union all those years ago, and she smiled to herself.