While Jeff was trying to convince the Circle to let us, at least, take a look at the painting first, Jake joined our little group.

"It's a good thing Jeff is doing the talking," he said. "The adults tend to find him very charming."

I noticed Jake looked anxious. His hair was messy and he was looking at the painting behind us suspiciously, trying not to sneak a peek.

"I wanted to ask you something," Edgar said. "It's about this picture. You can look at it, if you want."

That said, Edgar cleared the way and Jake got a good look at it.

"You could do the spell that reveals things for what they are," Edgar added sheepishly. 

"But... you can do it yourself," I couldn't help but say. "You just did it hours ago on the tube. I've seen you do it twice, now."

"It only works when the Enchanter is not under pressure," Edgar looked away, as if he'd just confided a terrible secret. I realised that, while Jake was looking worn out, Edgar definitely looked worse.

"It's a very good spell, the most useful of the basic Mudras," Jake said. "Ryan, look closely at my hands. I'll do it slowly, so you can learn it too."

He moved the index finger next to his thumb and showed me the movement for the right Mudra.

There was a symbol on the painting now, that looked like it was spray painted. It looked like a strange, archaic circle made up of Runes and words.

"What does it mean?" Raegan asked, scrunching her eyebrows. Edgar looked as clueless as I did.

"Thank you Jake," the woman with African descent and the beautiful black curls said. "We'll take it from here."

"No," I said. The force of my words surprised me, too. "We were chosen by the cards to go on this quest! Who are you exactly and why have I never heard of you?"

"We are an age-old institution founded by Jerome Rivers, Selim Torres and Alfred Autumn," the woman replied. "We take care of things like old archeological discoveries in the Aether Realm and other stuff like that, but I imagine humans tend to ignore our hard work. My name is Dorothea Lloyd."

"Please, Dorothea," Jeff said. "Let us study it. It could help us with our quest. So far, we only moved forward using hunches and it's already paying off."

"And it's likely not a coincidence," Jake pointed out. "Someone must know you're trying to follow the clues."

"And why would they play this game?" I asked, a little annoyed.

"You never know which powers are at work here," Jake said. "You never know which powers are at work anywhere, in the Aether Realm."

"Perhaps we should be careful, then," I replied. 

"Yes! Someone's finally telling it like it is!" Raegan exclaimed. "It's one of those traps people fall for all the time, like those who sell their soul to the devil or join a dance of fairies."

"Dorothea's assistant," the red-headed stopped us, showing us a badge. "Melanie Sparks. I agree with my superior. Let us peel the painting off the wall, and we'll let you proceed with your quest."

I noticed both women were wearing long white coats made with what looked like fox fur, as if they had been living somewhere even colder than England.

When Dorothea caught me looking at her coat, she explained, "This is what people in the Circle formally wear. It's magical. It will never be too hot or too cold while you're wearing it."

"Neat," Raegan said. "Can I have one?"

"I'm deadly serious," I explained. "When I say that the painting belongs to us. We need it."

Jeff and I exchanged a wordless glance, but we both knew what the other was thinking. I could have let them take away the picture, and snap a photo on my phone before it was too late. But I couldn't tell the people in the Circle that I had one.

Besides, age old archeological foundation or not, they still were strangers who ambushed on our first step and wanted something that we found and earned through hard work. In quests, it's never a good sign.

"You don't understand," Dorothea said. "If word of this gets out to our boss..."

I was surprised to say the least. I thought, by the way she'd been acting, that Dorothea Lloyd was the head of the Circle.

"If I don't understand, make me!" I exploded. "We didn't come all this way, with many more miles to go, in a quest that might prove fruitless, just to let you get away with the first item of importance we find!"

I did not look convincing — just plain angry. And no one gives a damn about a frustrated teenager.

At that moment, all of the glass cases in the Temple exploded. Outside, the sky looked black like it was starting to rain. Dorothea Lloyd looked at me as if I was a bomb about to explode, Edgar looked mildly sorry, and Jake explained, "He's a Variation. We were trying to get his powers under control."

I couldn't think of anything to say. I barely understood what was happening, myself. But I could see that Jeff was talking to the women in the Circle, now. And when I opened my eyes again, I was a little further from my friends and I was sitting on the pavement, with Edgar Wollstonecraft looking down on me.

"Your powers," he stated, looking right in my eyes. "I had no idea of how messed up they were. Do you know why it is that way, in Variations?"

Looking up at Edgar was difficult, because my eyes couldn't help but hurt as if I'd just walked out of the shadows into the light. I decided I must have hit my head, at some point.

"It's because no Enchanter is made to host more than one power, and the second one is not elemental magic, but something ancient, that people shouldn't be able to do anymore," he added, his dark blue eyes scrutinizing me like I was a theorem he could solve.

"I've never learnt how to keep my powers under control," I replied. "And sometimes it hurts me, too, when I try to keep them at bay. But it never crossed your mind, did it? You thought I was a sucky Enchanter."

"Hey, I didn't..." Edgar held up his hands.

"Then how come you never give me your books?"

"I never give anyone my books."

"Liar. The other day, in class, Alice said she found something in one of your books, and you didn't correct her."

"What for? I didn't want to argue during class," Edgar took my hand and helped me up without waiting for me to ask. "But I know," he confided. "That she took it."

I was starting to get irritated. First, Edgar offended Jake, and now he was painting a picture of Alice's character that was entirely different from what I knew about her.

"I don't want to judge you. I had an inkling you could be powerful. There's just something about you, about your magic..." Edgar added. "Well, I always knew what it was --- but not how uncontrolled it was. Still, I thought you didn't care about the lessons. You space out often."

"That's ADHD," I grimaced. "Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder."

"You don't look hyperactive to me."

"Oh for Heaven's sake... I knew you wouldn't be familiar with the term. It doesn't necessarily look that way, you know. When I move my arms, my legs or my hands while I speak, it's a reaction, okay? It's like I have a storm under my skin."

"And sometimes it comes out," Edgar said, looking at the windows. I'd never thought of it that way. Perhaps this was why I couldn't keep my powers in check.

"But it never leaves," I explained. "It's like I have electricity running through my veins. And you know what's always moving? My brain is always moving. It keeps receiving and processing stimuli, and it keeps taking in all kinds of information, both relevant and irrelevant to what we're talking about at the moment, and it keeps thinking. Yes, I do think too much! Which looks as if I'm not thinking at all."

"I wouldn't put it this way," Edgar said matter-of-factly. "It was very interesting. All those facts about your brain."

It sounded as if he wanted to pay me a compliment. I just didn't know what he was getting at.

He put a hand on my shoulder. "You do feel as if you have a storm inside," he said. Then his eyes became focused again. "But you should try to channel it, alright?"

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't going to do it just because he told me — that much was obvious. And I could still feel the phantom touch of his hand on my shoulder.

"You're a dead star," Edgar commented.

"Sorry, what?"

"Stars die because they explode. It's a chain reaction. There's always something going off inside of you. Something is always moving inside of your brain. It's a domino effect."

"I'd rather be a star that's alive," I replied.

"No star that we see in the sky is still alive. They are billions years old. I didn't know how to explain it. Perhaps a supernova is a more apt comparison."

"Wollstonecraft," I said. "I know that you think I'm a stupid, so act as if I was. I really wish you would make more sense when you speak."

Edgar's impassive and serious face looked a little hurt, but it lasted a minute or so. "I don't think you're stupid. As a matter of fact, you don't know what I think of you. And I don't know how to tell you."

"Well, I don't have time for those games. You've seen my temper. I don't need someone distracting me during this quest, if I want to do well, or at least, decently. Did you know that I grew up believing I had no powers?"

"And judging by the size of your powers, it must have wrecked you to find out you actually had them."

I nodded. Then, Edgar could be empathetic once in a while.

"Do you know what storms are also called?" Edgar asked. "Typhoons. It's close to Typhon. And Set's magic is storms. What if..."

"Thank you for ruining the semi-nice moment!" I bit back. "Did that look like anything different from an Air Hierophant with powers not in check, Poe?"

"Poe?"

"Edgar Allan."

"It didn't look like anything I've ever seen," Edgar said. "But at the same time, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that for once in your life, you're probably right, Griswold."

"Griswold?"

"Edgar Allan Poe's literary nemesis. I read too — a lot."

I was just about to reply with some witty come back, when our friends came back.

"Jake convinced the Circle to let us go with the painting," Jeff panted. "It was very hard work. He also said he's going back to the Academy and he'll tell us them what we found --- that way, somebody can help us decode the runes."

Raegan looked positively thrilled as she created a very sharp icicle, which she used to slice the painting from the wall. Thankfully, it seemed to be made of a different material, as if it had been added later. It was some kind of textile, and she rolled it like a parchment.

"Wait a minute," I said, feeling a little uneasy. I did not want to make enemies in the Aether Realm so quickly. "I want to thank the Circle for letting the matter drop."

It was clear that Edgar thought it was better not to bring it up again, but he just shrugged. "If you believe that helps."

I did. I ran after the women, who couldn't have gotten very far. I found them on the street, looking at a picture. I peered over their shoulders.

The photo they were looking at was a young man. My breath stopped. Suddenly, I didn't want to talk to them anymore.

Because in the picture, there was Vitaly Malinov, a little older and less androgynous looking than the first time I saw him. And when I got closer, Melanie and Dorothea were discussing his death --- it seemed it was still a mystery.

I put my phone on silent, took a picture of Vitaly's photo, and ran away before they could see me.

Because I'd noticed something about the young man I looked up to, and I knew nothing was going to be the same again.

I ran back into the Temple and didn't try finding excuses as to why I wasn't telling them how it went. I wasn't feeling it. It wasn't the first time I noticed this detail about Vitaly Malinov --- but this was the proof. It was the confirmation.

"This morning, in class," Jeff pointed out. "You looked this exact same way. Is it about Vitaly Malinov?"

"How do you know..." my breath hitched.

"Well, this morning, it was the news about Vitaly Malinov that upset you."

"I wouldn't say I was upset, exactly..."

"We get it," Jeff said. "It was very bitter, what my grandfather said. And we know you liked Malinov, from the books."

"It's not just about that," I mumbled. I showed my friends the picture from my phone. A fifteen year old Vitaly Malinov was looking back at my friends with hooded green eyes.

"Tell me," I said. "Tell me in all honesty that he doesn't look like me."

I saw Raegan trying to formulate words, but she shut up. Vitaly's hair was a shade lighter and redder than mine, his face more androgynous. But I too had his small chin with high cheekbones, and while my nose was upturned, I too had his almond-shaped blue-green eyes and his mouth, a little large when he smiled. We had the same eyebrows, and a very similar expression in our eyes.

"He does look an awful lot like you," Jeff finally said.

"I'm thinking," I replied. "I'm thinking that Vitaly Malinov was my father."

Nobody bothered me for the rest of the day. They figured that I couldn't up with more stress. We stayed in a hostel that normally Jeff wouldn't want to be found dead in --- or so he said --- but that was all we could afford. Only Edgar came to sit next to me during dinner, and he tried saying a few words after he was done eating.

"I already told you about the pressure my father puts me through," he offered. "He thinks I'm wasting time at school."

I wondered briefly what Mister Wollstonecraft would think about me, if he'd seen me during class. Edgar was coming up with theories and arguments to pose about the multiple universes. I was literally just keeping a chair busy.

"It got worse after last year's quest," he added, not knowing Jake had already told me a few things. "I don't know who to trust anymore. And you, being the new student at the Academy and having very strong powers... And a very difficult personality..."

"I don't have a very difficult personality," I huffed. No one else seemed to have many problems going along with me, even though my half-estranged cousin had always been my only real friend before. "Maybe just a bit difficult."

Edgar rolled his eyes, almost fondly. I thought that, bit by bit, I was probably growing on him, but I couldn't be sure.

"The thing is, I am a very good Enchanter. I know that. But since spells are like meditations, sometimes I just freeze, because I'm often on the verge of a panic attack when I'm needed the most," he bit his lip. "And last year, it happened the same thing. Perhaps if I didn't freeze when it was my turn to act, Jeff wouldn't have got the curse that hurts him every time he uses his powers. I know that, for someone like him, it means that he's only a shell of who he used to be. Even though it's hard to see --- even now, he's one of the best of us. But it changed him, and we aren't friends as we used to be. We drifted apart with the other heroes of the quest, Sean and Jake. Sometimes, I like to think I would like to keep all of my friends together, be the oil that works the team as if it was a machine. But what if we return from here sad, disappointed and angry at each other?"

"Your reasoning is spotless," I joked. "You'd rather get angry at me first and never really make up then become friends and lose me later."

"That's not true," Edgar said, but he wasn't angry because I was smiling. "But I can't help but be careful around you, as strange as you are. And those days, I am careful around everybody."

It still was a good explanation --- he was offering bits and pieces of his life and I hadn't found the courage to tell him Mister Locksley scared me and he couldn't possibly be someone who'd been trying to protect me. So, I smiled at him again and let him know I was grateful he was trying to make up for it.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I started sleeping very deeply. And the dreams were the most disturbing I'd ever had.

I could tell I wasn't the person in my dream, but I wasn't the person named Patrick I sometimes dreamt about, either.

I was someone else. My hair was shaved and I was eating with other recruits --- all of them had dark robes and hair cropped short. A man was showing us how to perfect the Mudra for the blurring spell we had to put on our faces.

I started feeling panicked. I was a member of the Reapers. 

"Are you done eating yet?" the man barked. "Come on! I want you to finish your meal as soon as you're full, and don't waste time talking to each other, or try to enjoy it. Eating will never be one of your priorities again."

"From now on," the man smiled in a very creepy way. "Your priority is serving us."

"Yes, Jinn, sir," the men and women replied in a chorus. I noticed too late I hadn't joined them.

"And what about you?" Jinn picked me up from the hood of my robe. He was much bigger and muscular than me. "I know that the boss said you're the most important of us, and that your path will be different, but do you really think that changes things?"

Jinn laughed. "No, he's not here to see things for himself. So, as long as you have to hide amongst us, you act like one of us, understand me?"

The young man that I was in the dream was about my height and build so I wondered if I was the most important members of the Reaper, the one Edgar had mentioned.

I tried my luck. It was a dream. Not a memory, not something I was actually living and could possibly mess up.

It was just really detailed, and it might give me information I didn't know.

"What's my name?" I asked. And suddenly, I realised it was a question that this recruit had asked, either out loud or in silence, before. They all lost their names there. No one was born being named Jinn.

In fact, he spit in my face and said, "Names don't matter. As long as you're here, you don't have one anyway. And then, you'll be reborn into something greater, and your name will be..."

Everything blurred around me, and this was when I woke up from the dream.